when i was young,
i'd watch my mother.
everything she did fascinated me.
the way she combed her hair and
smoked her cigarettes.
she was untouchable,
almost like a dream.
even to me.
i remember grabbing onto her hand,
only to have to let go,
before i could even say
goodbye.
JE LEEST
but a dream
Poëziethe tale of a love that not even a woman full of mistakes could destroy.
