Whose Land?

I don’t remember the green grass of the fields my mother grew up in,
Or the smell of fresh sweet bread rising in the oven
I don’t remember the simmer of Pepian de Pollo in the kitchen

Or the hum of my Mother calling
I remember being ripped from my home
Placed in another country,
with parents, whose face did not reflect mine
And the murmurs of a town, as they tried to understand
Why a white couple’s child glows in the sun
Why they speak a different language, loud and brash
Why they look small, tired, and malnourished
I don’t remember the war that tore apart my country,
Or the smell of blood in the streets
I don’t remember the laughter of my cousins
Or the hum of my Mother calling

I remember the tall crops of lush green and yellow corn,
And the smell of fresh tomatoes being diced
I remember the roar of boiling water
And the cry of my mother calling
I don’t remember my Mother's land
Or the Mother Land
I don’t remember my mother’s land
Or any other land

I remember feeling anxious starting school,
And finding the children to be cruel and unforgiving
I remember the first time I was told to go back to where I came from,

And the anger that flowed through me
Who was to say whether I belonged here?
Who would take me away?
Who would take me back to my Mother’s land?

Koi is an immigrant, genderfluid poet whose work explores memory, displacement, labor, and survival. Drawing on lived experience, their poetry centers absence, endurance, and the search for belonging across bodies and borders.