How could I not….

how could I not take you seriously

you present to the world your raw edge, your rich dignity, your obvious embellishments and imperfection.

when i was a soul in contemplation, hesitant before choosing to embark on this earth as a daughter, your chaos pulled me to you, it was the nasty world and your simple desire for security and indulgence that called to me, this is a mother unlike others, this is a mother who is alive and animal and rude and so very brave.

the parts of you, which you believe are secret and unknown, were my embryonic fluid. Your waters and blood, your bones and beauty, you rushed towards my tiny forming body. It was and still is a Niagara Falls to be your daughter. To be the one born of this temerity, from you and your spontaneous and erratic choices, is no student to you, the experience not peculiar to you. This world is even more so.

I’ve always believed that you’re my mother by choice. You and I so different, we complement the nature of chaos by creating a new balance between mother and daughter. An anthropogenic endeavor not taken by our grandmothers for a long time.

even as you disappoint, and I disappoint, we both dance and take pieces of life, and one another as another form of creation. And gifts upon gifts.

A love letter to a natural mother from a bold daughter.


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