A daughter peacefully rests on her mother’s lap…
Her lap was my first place of peace.
Her hands, the first teachers.
Her eyes, the first mirrors in which I saw myself.
This bond?
It cannot be measured.
Only lived.
Like a heartbeat. Like home.
A daughter peacefully rests on her mother’s lap…
Her lap was my first place of peace.
Her hands, the first teachers.
Her eyes, the first mirrors in which I saw myself.
This bond?
It cannot be measured.
Only lived.
Like a heartbeat. Like home.
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