A clownfish survives in the arms of an anemone: its poison is protection, a ritual of sting and shelter What is it, if not the push and pull of love of an Asian family a bond so deep it suffers inside the sea When my partner says, “Just tell your mom how you feel,” I try. I really try. But the words stick in my throat Stinging me like I’ve swallowed an anemone All that comes out is: “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.” So I hide the little white pills And the pain with the fears I ma

The ticking of a clock sounds like small gasps like when a parent sees their child turn around, all dressed, ready for the ball. But what does it feel like the other way around? When a child watches her mother once a goddess, glowing gold grow dusty as time begin to bury her. Photographs capture moments that no longer belong to us, and yet, they're how we remember who we were. The one standing in front of me now is newer, stranger and each memory made fills our lungs with the