my ex’s grandma fits gainly
in the soup cans she won’t throw away.
she is indispensable. not found
at your local h-mart. no matter
how many times her daughters throw her out.
my ex’s grandma leapt down
a mountain the other day.
a free spirit always catches air
with a sure-footed heart.
mine’s staggering, but
my ex’s grandma tells me
which means “be happy” which means
“open your heart as wide as the ocean.” she opens
wide enough to cross the pacific. wide enough
to fit two homes on two continents
in one soup. i see the heart-opening soup
my ex’s grandma prepared for me. i see
the cicada shells, the ginseng root, the goji berries—
love has never tasted so disgustingly good.