Milk tea in a Spanish room, fusion is the boy's buzzword. We tell stories and laugh, the four smiling faces, loosely tied like a child's shoelaces. I regret the jokes at others' expenses because I was taught better than that. It's too easy to lose my center, my principles, even here in this beauty, here on this journey to find myself. The sun presses the liquid out of my body like juice from some homegrown fruit. It feels natural to me to be in this country, this land that heals, this place I've never, and always, known.
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