Per Bastemhet

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In a dream.  Mother but not her.  The body is different but the essence the same.  The body shifts, melds, there she is.  She smiles sadly.  She wants to talk to me, tell me many things.  She can’t say much, something pulls her away.  It’s always the same.  She tells me she misses having her senses.  To see, to touch, to taste, to hear, to feel.

In that place between dreaming and waking I wonder, how can you see me without seeing?

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Written by Bastemhet

December 2, 2013 at 11:13 am

Posted in daily life

Tagged with ,

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