I have grown out of the sock drawer. a vagrant unfit holed structure that still somehow keeps you warm.

I read things and they float away. I would rather stare at my own breasts. “Mind like a steel sieve,” my father would say.

“I understood that a crying man was not a gay man, and Stainless and I were not friends.”

“I don’t know what the break-in meant to me at the time, but it was like a stray thread, a thread that, once I tugged upon it, unspooled my entire world and snagged open a portal through which I could escape.”

Bonnie Chau reflects on being Asian-American, the ideas and motivations of representation and visibility, the Amanda Gorman translation debate, and translating out of whiteness.