WhistleA Chapter by puffz
My father whistles songs
he can't sing along in English. He whistles Korean folk songs, his mother sung to him. He whistles, nodding to his own beat. Pursed lips curled tongue He blows out air harmful to the body It leaves hot, not angry steady. It flavors the air, easy on my ears.
© 2016 puffz |
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Added on January 5, 2016 Last Updated on January 5, 2016 Author
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