An ode to my dead mother.
A poem of sorts written by a daughter of a Khmer rouge survivor.
Dear lover, friend, someone I knew, and an unfinished poem.
By Anonymous One morning, she rises from her bed and plops her brown wings on the sheets and chirps to her mother as she get ready to swing her brown wings to the sky, “bye amu! i love you!” only to receive a heap of silence and a […]
Whatever we have: this passion, this fire…it doesn’t come often.