u/La_Flecherande

I remember you well in the forest of lilacs
Bright brown eyes, you were mad and uneasy
You always did that thing of never feeling right
In a beautiful moment
Now I'm 21, the bus feels like the train of clouds that
Used to float above us
And the draped women come and go with their children
Strong grand flowery perfumes
Skins as dark as when water touches the ground
Into its deepest secrets
Such fabrics, are light and life

There is a dandelion field by the window
Cold dead legs among the dusty suns
On the glass I see my reflection and the courage that
Still shines in the eye of the prey
(It would be unwise to think about this too much)
God, they all laugh and speak that kind of French Like, wow
You're not from here but
You're from somewhere alive

Mothers...
Taking the bus day after day, kids on their lap Looking all happy
You can see this kind of thing in public
You can tell when children feel good
And good mothers like that
They always make you feel safe at night
Or on the bus in a new land
Mother
I remember you well in the forest of lilacs
But to be very honest with you
I don't really miss it at all.