Mortatality only began to haunt me in a way I could see when I was older, when I had someone to care about and I loved my mother again. Until I was 23, I was at best unaware of the desperate war I’d waged against it: I expected my mom to follow my dad into… Continue reading on dad and dying
Tag: dad
on papa
and all the men my heart has fluttered about,on the space you take up when you’re here,and its imposition when you’re not. for papa who i pray knew nothing thenof the inside of his body, and all its thriving rot, for you who shook the wanderlust into my(your) long leg bones…for you who branded me… Continue reading on papa
Garbanzo Bae 