<p>I have not fallen from the spine of my mother Because she always grasps me tight to her back Nor did I slip from her arm When she threw me into the sky of freedom To embrace the whispering wind Because her hand is a swimming pool Where I embrace the warm waters of […]</p>
I have not fallen from the spine of my mother
Because she always grasps me tight to her back
Nor did I slip from her arm
When she threw me into the sky of freedom
To embrace the whispering wind
Because her hand is a swimming pool
Where I embrace the warm waters of affection
I have not fallen from the mountain cliff
When I climb to see the vastness of the city
At my kneecap
I have not fallen into the oasis of love
Not only because I am at the peak of loving myself
But because I am afraid to fall recklessly
Into the thorns of heartbreak
Like slanting sun on the flesh
Of the high mountain
I fall into a lagoon of errors with a popping sound
I fall into a jar of milky memory
That wasps around me; a spiders’ web
With her shawl cuddled around my wound
Like a newborn baby
I fall into the eyes of my mother