I was born with blood in the rice
I walked up the rice terraces one thousand times
I fed one million people with my thighs
did you hear me clearly? the ocean has lost its teeth. we have no more mystery. the ground is all disco ball and everyone's ass is out. we are partying on graves...
Read MoreDear Buwaya baby, Even a land can be jealous. Even a volcano can get sick of its own disruptions. It’s easy to find the fault lines. Pointed blame is just that. I’d never blame you, buwaya. The land rips open so that the ocean fish can get slick along the fissure. That atlas moth was employed to cover it up — a scapegoat with wings...
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