con trai, con gái | boy, girl

we are shopping at 99 Ranch
a 25lb bag of jasmine rice slung over my shoulder
a woman with jade bangles asks if I am your boy
đây là con trai của chị ả
you pause; this is my girl
là con gái
and I fold my chest inward,
dreaming of the butcher’s counter
they can cut me anything I want
flesh peeled from ribs, sinew scraped from bone
a display case full of insides that are
now outsides,
slaughter the ultimate equalizer.
slice away trai and gái, and you are left with con —
left with child,
naked under the knife.