Friday, 24 April 2009

On a Mother's Advice

Your smile was always a gentle gleam
and your lullabies pure as silver,
but you showed me the blackened tarnishes
beneath, that I may avoid
such withering and heartache.

I never meant to tread
on your confessions;
several mirrors later,
I regretted it.

Lesser things, you said,
had pulled many a girl from the sky.

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