Jane Costa Liu Gang ✭

He turned then, and smiled. “I’m Liu Gang. I’m here for three months. I was told you’re the person to talk to about Brazilian visual poetry.”

He proposed something neither of them expected: a year. One year of letters, video calls, flights when they could afford them. One year to see if this thing between them could survive the distance. If it could, they would decide together where to build a new life—maybe São Paulo, maybe Shanghai, maybe somewhere in between. jane costa liu gang

“Gang,” she said.

“Good,” Gang said. “Fear means it matters.” He turned then, and smiled