The blond hair of a child—
fall leaves burned on the ground
The soft skin of her hand—
smooth texture on the birch.
The bear sleeping on the iced surface—her mother’s belly
Your eyes, blue, green, brown hurricane, watching me at all times.
I’m a sinner,
I use your body,
I drill,
I vomit my substance,
I spit on you: Mother
She is beautiful even as it burns, as it blurs, and cries from the gas
I’m a hardened body with some manners, tangled in the automation, away from my species.
Help me Mother, I can’t see my child.
Gaia
Photo by Mason Hassoun on Unsplash
Albina Lesi Detrow is an Albanian American literary fiction author and poet. Born at the tail end of communism in Albania, immigrated to Greece and later to the USA, she now resides in Chicago with her son and husband. She graduated from Harvard University, Harvard Extension School with an MLA in Creative Writing and Literature in 2024.