She touched me
with black gloved blues
and sent me into a deep spin
with her voice
She gave me one of my own
and my soul roared
* I wrote that for my mother when I lived in Germany and sent it to her, hand written on a piece of scrap paper that she still keeps in her wallet to this day. The thought of that breaks my heart because a few weeks ago my sister showed me the self-portrait her son made for her. It was a semi-circle of paper with a brown nose blue eyes red eyebrows and a smile...HAHA. She keeps it in her wallet. Mothers are strange an interesting creatures. *
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