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dumplings - jason chu lyrics

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russell jeung says chinese people can speak two love languages fluently: food and sacrifice

every time i visit her apartment, my grandma does two things: she cooks pan fried dumplings
and she presses a new $100 bill into my hand, benjamin franklin wrapped in a red envelope like a robe

she lives across from the montgomery mall, where we walk after lunch, bellies straining
to search up and down the aislеs of k*b toys
i lie on her carpet through thе late afternoon playing with my new legos
as she watches the chinese news on her old tv

grandma is an immigrant * worked to support three sons *
knows how to leave everything behind * knows these dollars
are nothing more than a nursery of fading green
a paper thin cocoon transforming labor into life

what idiot collects shed skin and dead hair and calls that life?
i do

for two months, my friend david hid every mirror in his house
turning frames and taping up newspaper
until he was living in a perpetual state of tornado readiness
he said: the more he looked at himself, the less he saw others

i’m afraid to accept that i’ve forgotten how to see you
grown used to seeing what i need from you;
terrified to confess that i care more about what i’m saying than who i’m saying it to

that’s not language. it’s a mirror

and isn’t our world filled with mirrors, kisses like cold glass
and songs clear and clean like the air in a bank?

maybe the answer is learn from grandma:
i’ll cook you your favorite food, press into your hand my stored labors which you will spend on late afternoons with me

if i’m gonna live in a world where kisses taste like summer and songs sing like two palms warm against each other
i will need to speak in a language i haven’t yet mastered, but need to

we speak two love languages fluently: food and sacrifice

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