Where does history go—yours and mine? Those days when we tangled limbs and lives. No one told me, love is a bleeding dream: as we recklessly whispered forever into the night. Where does history go—with your one-line jokes and sideway smiles? I’m afraid I’ll find it, in this crowded room, fading from your coffee-stained eyes.
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Vanity’s Shroud by Dana Li
What a strange old world, where I’ve got one heart but a thousand faces, I’ve got a hundred friends but one ticket to Vegas. What a sad old world, where we wear smiles and our words are sweet, but all we do, all we do is love and leave. It’s the American Dream and it keeps beckoning, but what will…
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The Knot by Dana Li
Is this folly? To bind ourselves, flesh to flesh, in blood and brokenness and whisper, in defiance, against the dark: ‘til death. To mock futility, souls conjoined, despite the mortal sting and laugh in the face of emptiness with this communion sweet. To die daily, for love asks more than words—it demands our life: every frail breath and thought, a living…
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Wanderlust by Dana Li
Won’t you come, and walk these rugged roads with me? We can drive that beat-up van through stretches of golden cornfield, dappled with dying sunlight, listening to the tired hum of the engine and wondering breathlessly when it will sputter and give out. Dusk descends and the crickets come alive with their calls—a song to the last embers of summer,…