Remember how your summit was preceded by a base:
low-rent high rise, heating in mood swings, lone window
lost in grey, Neighbors trading stabbing words, shadows
racing along peeling walls, mattress marked by bodies undefined,
suitcase bursting with clothes, photos of kin & a lover left behind,
two books of poems you didn’t read aloud until now, when progress
rests on concealing your mother tongue, on assuming a foreign one.