The Girl-Woman and The Box With No Windows
I will forget that her favorite color is brown.
I will forget her mother,
I will forget her name.
the hue of death
to sweat with existence among the fellow wretched, / or to sleep with untimely dreams, distant echoes of nothing, / of unbeing. / no resolution.
Moscow Nights
This is an English translation of a Chinese translation of the Russian folk song. My mother sang this around the house growing up, and I have fond memories of it.
Not Alone in My Loneliness
I couldn’t quite pinpoint when we had first met, or where he was from. It was as if I’d known him since the first time I opened my eyes to the world. Every moment my mother was not by my side, this man had been there.