We stare at each other, unyielding,
resistant
Her tea steams into a prayer,
mine cools into a question
The air between us—
Tense and tepid at once.
We avoid naming the emotion
Because naming might collapse it.
How can our realities
Orbit so differently?
She clings to tradition,
as if history has never lied.
I counter with theories,
as if reason is always kind.
Love and hate,
Equal parts sugar and spice,
Her truths and my algorithms
Cross paths in the dark,
never quite touching.
We are alternate versions of the same story
In this time warp
Both are true—
Depending on who opens the door
Time folds here:
In her world,
I am in a phase she prays will pass.
In mine,
She is an echo I can’t stop hearing.
Two strangers bound by DNA
The box stays shut.
We don’t solve the equation.
We just learn to live with it.
Jina Dcruz is a first-generation immigrant born and raised in Kerala, and now calls the United States home. A writer, scientist, and cultural explorer, she is the author of Lightning in a Bottle, a debut collection that traces curiosity, migration, and the quiet spaces between worlds.