The red bloomed differently this time. Staring down at my underwear, I felt my heart sink at another life not possible this month, an ending that never began. My periods had always been a thing of resentment and contradictions, now a grief in waiting.
As a teenager, I dreaded the…
If you’re not an Asian women, I want you to see how intensely some of us are experiencing the murders of the six Asian women in Atlanta this past week (I’ve since removed their names as some of their family members do not want names publicly shared). …
in 1993,
Toni Morrison once said,
Tell us what it is to be a woman so that we may know what it is to be a man. What moves at the margin. What is it to have no home in this place. To be set…
This list is jointly written by Minjung Pai and Connie Ni Chiu on the unqualified pleasures and joys of being two women of color together, a list of musings on their bloody periods, nakedness, obedience, emotions, fights, cellulites, and ripening. …
Our grandpa’s name is 葉長青, a name I only recently discovered as I’ve always lovingly called him 公公. 公公 lived a life bigger than any of us could have ever imagined or hoped for. And even as we gather here today, bearing witness to his love and legacy, we find…
she walked with a limp
in her [soles] souls,
tipping each bruised toe to
tiptoe across tired lands,
kissing dirt soft so her feet
never crushed too many broken bodies
lighted by fire and fireflies
my mother never ran
the way feet take flight
uprooting bodies trading
laos…
Oh, that’s what I look like when I look at you.
I’ve always wondered what I look like when I look at you, what my eyes say when we hold hands through eyesight, staring into the vast worlds that occupy each of…
i was the only girl you ever carried on your back. and last week when mom told me you had six-months-to-a-year i melted into your back wrapped my fingers around your liver so i could find your cancer and pull it into myself. but i think i shrank into myself…
Walking home after grabbing beers with a colleague I never talked to during my masters program, after a good time of laughter and discovery and complaints about our alma mater and an awkward let’s do this again hug, I pulled out my phone and dialed my mom’s number.
Hello? Hi…
