photo of a mother and daughter

A timeline of us: A poem

1972 South Korea. Black hair and almond eyes and parted lips; impatience intertwined with red blood. It is quiet and you are crying: a baby swaddled in fragmented memories and a mother’s tears. The air is smoky, sweet, sea-foam blue and pearly pink. An attempt to speak leads to a
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Memories we choose to keep

Cal in Color

Especially because my overall life mentality is to look forward rather than to reflect upon old memories, I’ve realized that I have let many moments from my past fade away; I’ve allowed them to pass me by when I really should have held them closer.
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