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My mother's maiden name

little Africa

By Simara AskewPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
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I was taken from her before I even

took my first breath

no memories of her infrastructure

no recollection of what she smells like,

how she feels

how she speaks

I'd like to imagine a voice a lot like

mine

only in a language i can't quite comprehend

her mother tongue,

MY mother tongue too.

until they cut it out of me

like a disease to keep from spreading

only the disease was my identity.

I never knew my mother

but they tell me I look like her

I wish i could say thank you

but I'm not so sure what I would be

thanking them for.

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

Simara Askew

Hi ! Thankful for the opportunity to express myself and connect, thankful for this space.

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