Vietnamese Authors
LITERATURE TANDEM

I let the sound fly away
through the dark
april, hoarse with red dreams
                        
the day mom cut the cord | like the most absurd  separation
the first menstrual cycle | perchance
april, april, I sit here with | I'm flying away
 
like that, I fly away
in a different version
april never ceases to be honest
darkness
spreads from month-start to month-end
 
my voice, my hair color, my eyes, my two hands, my me, not anyone's me: is burning, is being defined by strangers' dream
while flying away
I disappear
I remain a
among a plethora of other sounds
 
april, hair falls over childhood
the cord-cutting day, the first menstrual cycle, the fright
I died once
that april
even one more death
cannot let me forget.