By Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm
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I have your word
I don’t know if it’s enough
But shovel it into a box you think, mould it into a convention?
In convention, we are cheats, the worst kind of liars
Be it, but I won’t.
You are free
but I will take your words as mine.
Mine alone, you know this.
You are free.
You are the eagle, the trees
they rhyme, do you see?
You are free.
14.10.20
