A Language No One Spoke
She was a winter solstice
whose bleakness spread depression.
She was a melody sung off-key
that couldn’t correct itself.
She was a geyser that faithfully
spewed relentless love.
She was a prison in which
unspeakable and imagined
events took place.
She was a language no one spoke.
She was an enigma on the
outskirts of normal.
She was my mother whom
I learned to love more fiercely
after her death.
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