A Daily Self-indulgent Postcolonial/Feminist/Poetry-in-Progress/Culture Blog
from the brutality
of everything we
carry, when only
fragments of story
are ours to control
We know we are every
-one, belong every
place, matter some
-times in epilogue
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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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