I look familiar

I’ve been to Serbia

To Bosnia

And Croatia

I svugdje

Sam “nasa Maja”

Because I love

Food, white stone,

Thick woods

The faint smell

Of smog liquor winter

Urine in alleyways

Soup in the afternoon

Because I know the

Formalities of church

Crocheted doilies, miniature gilt frames

Because I grew up ironing underwear

And athletic socks

Because I know which men

Will push you around

Because my hips are wide

And I have a mole on my cheek

My eyes are old

And savagely European

Because I wear tall boots and

black pants and gold jewelry

Whenever possible

Because I smoke cigarettes

At cafes and will not say no

To coffee or kisses

Because I have stood overlooking

Sarajevo,

I am Theirs

I am their Maja.