There was a light at the end of the tunnel that you failed to see.
The colors and smells of this world wouldn't let it be.
The flower bloomed sweet, but the taste was sour.
Each new branch, extended, devoured.
The thorns piece the fingers, the sap stung the hands.
It wasn’t the fragrant bowls of pho on the sidewalk, the friendly locals, or the surprisingly clean streets of Saigon that made me feel at home in Vietnam.
Read MoreThere is something about seaside cities
Read More