by Julia Onking
as his fingers brush over twenty-dollar fabric
that he knows he could’ve haggled for, back
in the tiangges of his youth. here, speaking
the syllables of english is no longer a privilege,
but an expectation. here, he counts each and every
sterile, folded bill before leaving his uncle’s
palo alto home, the saccharine smell of twenty-
peso tapsilog and manong’s snaggletooth smile
no longer greeting him in the mornings. he tells
me about the bitterness of american coffee and
the city air, dry with infertility, reminiscing over
waking to the rounded Manila sun, lungs
swelling at the musky sweetness of kongkong’s
summer harvest.
Julia Onking currently lives in her beautiful home country: the Philippines. Born and raised as a Chinese-Filipino, she enjoys developing her perspectives through reading, writing, and having meaningful conversations with people from all walks of life. Her work has appeared in SAND Literature and Rappler Magazine, amongst other digital and print publications.
Emerge Literary Journal 