Tag Archives: Sandra Lin

Ephemerality as Haibang

There, through the car window. The sky a brocade of shimmery dark             velvet. I am nothing more than a moment here. Just today, I ate haibang for the first time in years, the shelled flesh             soft and mushier than I … Continue reading

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subway boy

suppose a brown-skinned boy walked to the scratched-up vegan glass at the place you work with soft light in his tree bark eyes and talked about how a redwood grows from a sapling, wiry and sharp-limbed with a desire for … Continue reading

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