My Mother's Tears
My Mother's Tears canyon stories
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Autoplay OFF  •  10 months ago
The gorge from which my breath was made

My Mother's Tears

My mother's tears flow, free and easily

Like a storm right before its quake

When they break, fragile illusions fly

And flicker the leaves of every tree

A season changes and a sigh is heard

It echoes though my mother's ribcage

The gorge from which my breath was made

The rumbling magic canyon of my origin

My mother's pain is the ice that splits down the open road

Leaving long, tortured tracks that lead to the center of my being

The rust under my feet squeaks, allowing memories to play and skip

My mother breathes and the breeze becomes water

And I become the wave shedding itself along the shore

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