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Apr 2019
My mother loves me like she loves the
rain when it pours and
pours and
pours.
Like
achy
joints that
curl β€˜round their suppor-
-ting bones mercilessly.
And the pebble in her shoe
that makes blistering wounds;
She loves me like she loves my
Lack of Drive.
Determination
Determining how much the woman
loves me
is but a test untaken.
As without the rain
green drys black.
Plants
thirst.
Even if
she only shows
the smallest
Indication
redruMAndTea
Written by
redruMAndTea  17/F/Everywhere
(17/F/Everywhere)   
241
     MS Anjaan, JMB and PoetryJournal
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