a snow of butterflies : texticity

by Tomorrow's Man

October 03, 2003

I can see her mother in her tilted face, in the frown that seems forced when it wants to be a smile; I can see her mother in her emerald eyes, when she hears lies from those around her and feels them like fire; and I can see her mother when she sleeps, and though she may not know how much peace she brings, as she lay she is an icon of prayer.

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