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my parent's daughter

When I look in the mirror,
I am my parent’s daughter. 
I am every chromosome,
and every D.N.A. strand.
I am my father’s skin,
stretched over my mother’s bones;
my mother’s mouth,
speaking my father’s words.
I am perfectly mixed pieces
like my grandmother’s quilt.
My personality is a disorderly,
incoherent patchwork of
excellence that none can copy.

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