Bridal — Mask Speak Khmer

(Khnhom s’abt anak) I hate you.

I am a wound that learned to walk. I am the missing page from the history book. I am the scream that your governor’s son hears just before the lights go out. And when I speak now, I do not speak Japanese. I do not speak the tongue of the occupier. I speak the language of the knife. Bridal Mask Speak Khmer

Tonight, I will kill again. A collaborator. A professor who teaches Korean children to hate their own shadows. Afterward, I will leave a single jasmine flower on his chest. Not for him. For the soil. For the proof that something soft can still grow from something rotten. (Khnhom s’abt anak) I hate you