I Love My Mom

My mother was a saint. What kind of clashes used to be? I would have to force him to change as if he were obliged to change. I was in a rebellion.

Now I understand what goes through the heart of the 4 veins. My mother, who sacrificed 4 vessels to her 3 children, ate 9 pills per meal and ate 1 needle.

I wish I could replace my old child in the glow of color in my own rainbow and put my present state here! If I could put a rose sapling in place of every word in the fights I had with you. I mean, you were right. The kisses on both my cheeks that I understand from motherhood.

Small, spit and spit. Then they wipe with little hands that spit. We're smiling. Rounded on my lap, like a tent. And love that would cover all the evils of the world. Doesn't it boil and vaporize everything?

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