A bunch of silly men chasing a ball” my mother says “give each one his own ball if they’re so desperate to have one.
The rules are simple: they lie to us, we know they’re lying, they know we know they’re lying, but they keep lying to us, and we keep pretending to believe them.
What’s inside you no one can touch.
Along with all those who left their countries for other shores, I belong in neither land. We are unmoored and disconnected, like these poplar seeds blown into the crevices of the buildings, into the corners of the world.