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The distance grows immeasurably, & I've grown too accustomed to the flux— as I flit from one I long for the other Mother: the first separation as evening comes refuses 'goodbye' the taste of grief so heavy on her native tongue In her garden she pleads for me to stay hands outstretched for just an hour to see the rare white blossoms unfurl My eyes remain fixated on the far gate she shrinks I leave my mother nothing in return When I arrive home the familiar stifling silence greets me & only then do I recall like a stone’s impact my mother's puffy eyelids marking another somber anniversary celebration, alone by the sole witness of the night -blooming cereus
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May 7
May 7, 2026 at 7:06 PM UTC
Two Homes
The distance grows immeasurably, & I've grown too accustomed to the flux— as I flit from one I long for the other Mother: the first separation as evening comes refuses 'goodbye' the taste of grief so heavy on her native tongue In her garden she pleads for me to stay hands outstretched for just an hour to see the rare white blossoms unfurl My eyes remain fixated on the far gate she shrinks I leave my mother nothing in return When I arrive home the familiar stifling silence greets me & only then do I recall like a stone’s impact my mother's puffy eyelids marking another somber anniversary celebration, alone by the sole witness of the night -blooming cereus
a throwback poem I wrote for my mom
CreatingwithmyCreator
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May 7
May 7, 2026 at 7:06 PM UTC
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