ana-ng:

Immigration stories always break my heart in the best way. The absolute need to exist in a flawed and foreign place above one’s own native one because of the latter’s deeper restriction of the simplest human experiences is something I don’t know if most people have sat down to think about. There are so many poems layered in the silences of work and re-rooting, so many words hidden among the five letters it takes to spell out exile. 

You say it best, Ana.

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