You can get lost in every book
but you’ll never forget yourself
the way god forgets
When they ask you
where you’re from,
tell them your name
was fleshed from the toothless mouth
of a war-woman.
That you were not born
but crawled, headfirst—
into the hunger of dogs. My son, tell them
the body is a blade that sharpens
Ocean Vuong, ‘Night Sky With Exit Wounds’.