New California.
My mother hugs me goodbye. It is morning. It is cold outside. Her body is warm. An airplane will disappear in two hours with her in it. She is a vanishing flower. She tells me to eat more, call home more often and stop drinking. There are waterfalls in my eyes. I did not want her to leave New York.
My mother hugs me goodbye. It is morning. It is cold outside. Her body is warm. An airplane will disappear in two hours with her in it. She is a vanishing flower. She tells me to eat more, call home more often and stop drinking. There are waterfalls in my eyes. I did not want her to leave New York.
