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To my mum
on a piece of marble
or in sand, i don’t
need a polished slate
to say why you’ve become
i bear your mark, mother
you are and so you will
become my life’s reel
portrait, plague and passion
you are a word in a word
a new inscription.
and on a piece of marble,
in sand, and on polished slate
you’re the first word
the first that comes to mind
leonell echa
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