A Daily Self-indulgent Postcolonial/Feminist/Poetry-in-Progress/Culture Blog
These dreams are like demons
Where ice breeds fibrous
Before you were born
You were an ocean.
Here, everyone is moving
Their apologies like smoke
Still under the new road
An older one flows.
_
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We heard that At's 28-year-old ex died. I expected that everything would have stopped when I opened the eyes I shut in disbelief. I ki...
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