Category: Poetry

    My 妈妈 (māma) worries my slow bulging way of swallowing begun by guiltily having...

    Her eyes spoke of mid-November nights Gloomed by cold, and hiding secrets of pain....

  And I am so devoted to you, sun that every evening, when the sky goddess takes you to her...

The wind is tired; let it rest the repertoire of morning birds on the eucalyptus branches Let the...

I want you in every season of me, at each height, at every breaking. You are my quiet, the one who...

Sitting in the back, I see sunlight shining on the scratches of old desks. And the clock above...