She is unburdened by my memory of her.

Unbound

Unvarnished

She needs to be a stranger to me.

She has her reasons.

My illiterate, invisible, original mother.

She mists her powers.

My spirit rose out of her womb.

My body followed.

(With no conscious memory of her)

I span her like a shadow self

calling out her name.

Thank you birth mother for giving me away

(to strangers)

I remember who I am today.

Today.

Today.