Each breath taken is

An exercise,

An experiment that stretches the definition of "American,"

Attempting to find the extent of a definition on paper 

And applying it to a person who lives and breathes and grows,

Somehow knowing you will never quite reach adherence or compliance.

Each word spoken, each thought unsaid

Echoes 

The thoughts of two cultures, two languages, two lives 

And a time when I thought blending and blurring would solve 

Invisibility -- as if there were such a cure for the phenomena that grips 

With its sharp, cold hands and makes a mockery of the roots that show,

That grow above the ground. 

I have never known how to live without

Two hearts that beat as one,

Speaking and thinking in two languages.

With each breath, I exhale bilingualism,

Bi-culturalism.

If I asked you to seperate the veins in a leaf from its skin,

The melody from the track,

and the cold from the winterer air of my birthplace,

There would be something missing. 

So I breathe the air in America, and think of home.