The Sun Is Mother

Let me forget the things I cannot have,
let them fall from the fingers of my melancholy memory as she learns to laugh again.
Let me live without regret,
running from the rain to my very own veranda of violet daydreams,
because there are things that are not meant for me,
but better days are draped around my shoulders,
and I can capture the feeling of fulfilment when I let it wrap around me.

Let me forget,
gone missing under the green leaves of my ancestors,
the kind of people who fell away into the Earth and grew, and grew,
let me grow.
Let me let her go.
Let me be free to find my roots again and run from the soil to the sky.

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