Words, unheard

Don’t know what to say to you
when you tell me about those angry adoptees
and how you had a hard time listening to them
because their words
weren’t what you wanted to hear.

You don’t see the idiocy
in telling me
that you do in fact know more Asians than I do
and from that
you can infer my experience.

You seem to be listening
when I tell you your small child
needs the diverse environment
like the oxygen she breathes
for the life she should live.

You lose my contact information.
I didn’t lose yours.

Because what do I say to you
when you tell me about the
wonderful, healthy environment
your child is now living in
where she can ride horses
and play with big dogs
and be the only non-white person
for three hundred miles.

There may be fresh air.
There is no oxygen.
And I have wasted my breath.
But I need to breathe.