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\\In our deepest moments we say the most inadequate things.\\


My mother learned
the english language
so when she spoke,
others would listen.

When she cries,
I hear her
native tongue.

When she cries,
I know how long
she has been silent.


||  Maza-Dohta  (via maza-dohta)

(via thisisnotlatino)

"Elsewhere, the tree-of-heaven grows—
in deserted parking lots,
auto graveyards, abandoned
garden plots.

The wind in its leaves
is dry, arrhythmic, and sad.
Everyone, it whispers, has their reasons,
a few of which are bad."

Vijay Seshadri, ‘Ailanthus’
bye bitches

Off to Istanbul this summer see ya l8r amurrica