Thursday, October 6
TURNING My mother is dead. The lemons still turn yellow, the trout still stare emptily, desire is still free. We still love many people, eat peaches as if kissing. (Victoria Chang)
TURNING My mother is dead. The lemons still turn yellow, the trout still stare emptily, desire is still free. We still love many people, eat peaches as if kissing. (Victoria Chang)
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