I am from cheap off brand soda, sweet tea and cheesecake. I am from the busy kitchen
(Smells like maple syrup, oatmeal) .
I am from the church, from fish fries and thick rosary beads lining pale necks, the silver cross which covers the chest.

I am from homemade ice cream
(Sweet milk, freezer burn).
I am from the smell of new ink, fresh printed letters, black dye that stains the skin, coats, wrinkled fingers that created maps and marked the landmarks of the land which they were raised and which they fight for.

I am from the glass factory, once creating things that were shiny, clean and see through, now covered in rust and grime. The workers and metal couldn’t stand the test of time.
From bike brakes that grind the skin, hits that make the head spin and bone breaking skin, 

I am from the harm which heals.