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Onoma
Poems
Sep 2020
Tenderest Name
this morning
my mother addressed
me by the tenderst
form of my name.
to ask me: where did you
go?
the person she knew...
and yet, and yet.
my response was: you
gave birth to me and you
don't recognize me?
she addressed herself as
a stranger as it's coming to be.
Written by
Onoma
NYC
(NYC)
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