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Moonflowers & Untold Truths

  • Writer: Zeyneb K
    Zeyneb K
  • Jan 18
  • 1 min read

Mother waters her garden at midnight, with tears of the moon, she says. I can sometimes hear her crying, but I don’t tell her. Her garden is beautiful, with pale petals on willowy stems and dew clinging onto their souls, she says. I asked her once to see her budding seeds, but she insists that she must tend to them alone, fragile blooms. I nod because I know she is right, and because I am scared that if I don’t, she will find out, and my heart is too fragile.


Mother’s garden has no flowers, and I am still wilting.

 
 
 

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