I was too famous to remember
anyone’s name. That was when
I was beautiful. But the body
preserves nothing, and these
are not my freckles. My face
is only my face when someone
else claims it. I think I am smiling
in too many photographs. They
are in other people’s homes. 


Steven Chung attends high school in the San Francisco Bay Area. More of his poetry can be found or is forthcoming in The Margins: Asian American Writers' Workshop, Glass, Potomac Review, After the Pause, and elsewhere.