When my mother laughed, it was from a slightly pained place When she gave advices, it was from her previous mistakes When she’d caress my hair she’d be so gentle Not moving hairs, but wrapping them in love As she’d caress in me only the bits that I had borrowed from herself ‘Now please let me rest, she’d say, after roughly an hour’ Of being together, returning wholly to the silent movie space of her room  For which my outer…