Black eyes. Slender hands. Dark hair. Waterfall laughter.
Black eyes.
Slender hands.
Dark hair.
Waterfall laughter.
Trying to picture my lost mother has become a race of entrancing words that gallop faster and faster.
Trying to picture
my lost mother
has become a race
of entrancing words
that gallop
faster
and faster.
Did Mamá fly into the sky like a winged being, or is she alive and hiding?
Did Mamá fly into the sky
like a winged being,
or is she alive
and hiding?