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mysleze

Mother

You liked the color of olives 

And always wanted to change your last name

As it would alter your destiny

And redeem you from the pain of eternity

Your touch was rough

Your voice - it buzzes in my head 

But I\'m not able to memorize

the tone

You carried the smell of a second hand shop

The coats you wore were heavy and

I love them that way too

As a metaphor of 

The mass of troubles on our shoulders

 

I was seeing you in my dreams for months after 

Now

I don\'t even remember your face

(the face I was looking up to my whole childhood)