my afternoons after a heartbreak, are always your's, mamu. we share the mild warmth of this winter sun and pretend men we love have never hurt us. we pretend, listening to ancient love songs will fix our broken souls.
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on what life meant to make out of faith
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Mamu touched my hair the other day and said: This is not the hair of the girl I birthed. What did you do to your hair? I touched my hair, im... -
i cannot imagine how you put up with a man who drags you by your nape and tells you to go to your room and puts you out in the night. it...
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