The Inscrutable Illness of Things by Satya Dash My grandmother often in bouts of angerturned stone pink in silence, quietlyremarking: it’s impossible to silencesilence. It took me years to understandmy awe for the way she could deal a nounits own verb. I think about...
Satya Dash’s “The Inscrutable Illness of Things” & Anna Meister’s “Postpartum April” (Redivider)
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