There is something to be said
of things that are round,
like a memory of the Moon.
My three-year-old self
questioned her reason for
following me so unconditionally.
I believe that she loved me
in her own way; like a mother,
glowing softly, warm and round.
of things that are round,
like a memory of the Moon.
My three-year-old self
questioned her reason for
following me so unconditionally.
I believe that she loved me
in her own way; like a mother,
glowing softly, warm and round.