Curate, connect, and discover
I have a coworker who is from the same place I used to live in a different country. She is one of the nicest people I have ever met. She shares her food with me, the food her mother in law made. These delicious meals that are nothing like what I eat at home.
I told her I liked writing and she was thrilled to ‘know a real author’ and it made me so happy. I’m going to print out a short story so she can read it.
She told me that she writes poetry in her native language. I do not have the skill for poetry, and I cannot understand her’s. With food, mouth can taste what she shares with me. With poetry, neither my ears nor eyes can ever understand this though.
the poems already write themselves at this rate.