Will not be explaining.

Long eyelashes and melodious tunes.

Humming without need to remember the words.

Warm breath on the cheek as she kissed goodnight.

Innocent eyes and a bowl of noodles on rainy days.

Cauliflower smelt like the lion at the zoo.

Falling asleep on the way from school in the back of the car.

Lost handkerchiefs. Handkerchiefs pinned onto the breast pocket.

Soft voice. Slow pats. Low voice and dim lamps.

Addition and the enamour of summer camps.

Photographs of people in lockets.

Hazy history, and accounts, without complexity, of war.

Mornings all too fresh, and sweet-smelling dew.

Pick-me-ups and never having to know the way.

Never too far and always within her sight.

Below the stars, several birds.

And comforted with lullaby and hugs, is a child’s cocoon.



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