I grew up in a tree hollow. If a tree hollow is a kind of metaphor (it is), I want to knead it into flesh, like the soft-sweet of my partner’s behind, like my partner’s flat but also perky chest and nipples, I will open his tree hollow, live inside forever.
“Are you married?” Even though I’ve returned to the village for five years already, this question still comes up repeatedly — when I interview Baki1 and Payi2, when I take out the trash, when I’m buying Winston Blues at the corner store. How I want to respond, Yeah! I’m married — he’s a man, he’s very cute, he’s very smart, he’s very talented, he makes me like living in the village even more.
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Apyang Imiq is an Indigenous writer from Taiwan; he belongs to the Truku tribe, in Hualien. He was named Best New Author at the 2021 Taiwan Literature Awards. After finishing his master’s degree at the Graduate Institute of Building and Planning at National Taiwan University, he returned to Hualien, serving as an associate of the Community Development Committee and tribal council officer. He has been awarded the Taiwanese Indigenous People Literature Award multiple times and also was granted patronage by the National Culture and Arts Foundation in 2020. “River Dam of Confession” is from Imiq’s book of essays, Growing Up in a Tree Hollow.
brenda Lin is a writer and literary translator based in Taipei. She has published two books: Wealth Ribbon (University of Indianapolis Press, 2004), a collection of essays on family and cultural identity, and Hope, That You Can Wear, a bilingual touch-and-feel picture book inspired by her mother’s collection of children’s textiles. Lin’s writing has appeared in Fourth Genre, WSQ, Asymptote, Gulf Coast, and others. She is currently working on a book of essays on homecoming, motherhood, and the intersection between text and textile.
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