P006 → Poetry



白沙


(published in thanatos review)

my home is missing the smell of baisha cigarettes and regret. i wonder if motherland dreams of the diasporic, if dreaming is synonymous with the hurt.

UNTIL DEATH DO US PART

homage to a tradition in which love and death walk hand in hand; light my cigarette so i can microdose death like a sickly child crawling home to mother — if death is yearned for, 

where is the motherland?


shut up about poems and Pay Someone !


(not published anywhere)


i’ve got a Three Body Problem for u


(not published anywhere)


& more forthcoming ~