Kavi's Scribbles

50

Mamma, you see me as a 20-year-old girl,
When I am still yearning for child care.
When I was a bud, I glorified blooming blossoms,
Used for adoration.
Since I bloom, I am afraid of bearing the pain,
Of separation.
Once the glory, I wondered, becomes the story I fear.
Can’t I just stay?
Inserting my hands between your hands,
Feeling warm and safe,
Quizzing, and making you wonder?
In this little space,
In our little home.

~Kavi