A poem by Sennah Yee
I wake up at 4 a.m. to catch the sunrise at Angkor Wat. I accidentally take more pictures of monkeys and stray cats than temples. I shoot dirty looks at a white couple complaining about all the Asian tourists ruining their selfie in front of a tree. I hear the tree was in Tomb Raider. I forget about an old pack of baos in my bag and so all my clothes smell like taro and pork belly. I take pictures of white people taking pictures of local kids for their Instagram. I want to cry when locals ask me where I’m from, because I know they are trying to bring me closer, not push me away. I accidentally sleep through the sunset. I hear it was beautiful.
This poem is reprinted from Yee’s poetry collection HOW DO I LOOK? (Metatron, 2018)