self-portrait
the days are much longer here. we wake up early. we sleep early and into the night. we dream wild dreams that feel too real but ought not to be. or else. or at least that is the summary of what occurs therein. it's good to hear mom's boisterous laugh. it breaks to hear her cry for her mother. my grandmother. in my dreams i wonder why i do not see her. mom talks about me so much - too much. but such is the homecoming, such is the elongated time of being without