me and pépère.   his hand behind my head,   making ears.   mine holding a notepad   like i already knew i’d need one.

we didn’t match.   not in skin.   not in story.   but for a moment,   we belonged to the same living room.

transracial adoption doesn’t leave space   for moments like this.   too tender.   too confusing.   too real.

but this was family.   not the kind they put in pamphlets—   the kind you survive through.

#davidson #drift #fragments #holdings #traces