Milky Skin

A mother's milky skin never keeps you awake for long

My mother is cold, so I am always satisfied by a goosebumps embrace, a quiet good night

My mother has tightly curled hair, it smells like apricots and long nights

My mother never stays awake for too long


Her fingers are delicate, smile is true,

She believes me when I say I love you

And she tells me, one day, that

I will have a beautiful daughter.

Just like me.


When milky skin holds me some other night,

I imagine I am safe, but It's not the same

His hair is straight, his nails are cut short,

He smells like a sharp smoke on a chilly night


When his hands touch my shoulders, I imagine

I am touching my daughter,

And she believes that her mother has the most beautiful hair,

And she envies her perfume.


Lately, his skin is rough

He comes home late

And I wouldn't dare ask

If he would maybe want another daughter


It hurts when he yells,

But I can feel my daughter here now.

She would tear-stain my shirt 

And glide her thumb over me.


She's long gone,

Because I am foolish. 

Because I am wrong.

Because that's what he says.


My daughter was ugly, he said. 

I mean I said.

My daughter was expensive, he said.

I mean I said.

My daughter was bad for me, I said. He said. I said. He said.


If mama was here now, she would say it wasn't your fault

My mother would curl my hair around her finger and say, it's not your fault

But it has to be

He said so

This poem is about: 
Our world
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