In the words of her
My name is Leila and I 8.
I hate my hair.
They are thick and like straw. But mom says they reflect red squirrels.
Those who are in the park in town. They climb to trees.
I like when you go to the park, both.
And I like squirrels.
There, now she looks at me.
From behind the lens of his camera. She made lots of pictures mom.
Later, when I grow up, I'd do the same.
And that would put me in the box as she says! But she does not like being photographed.
Yet she is beautiful with her short hair. They are golden blonde.
There's like little stars or small suns that shine within.
It should look like gold nuggets.
And also, it has its eyes wide open.
When she looks, she seems to "eat" things and people!
The eyes can not eat, I know.
But it feels like his mouth. Mom, she's hungry with his eyes.
She asked me to pose, but remain natural.
I have not understood what it is to remain natural.
As I knew, I looked and I figured it out.
My mom, she is not very large. Like me.
At school, girls in my class are bigger than me. Except Annette and Chloe. And Ingrid too.
But it's different.
Mom, she has soft lips. She kisses that are just sweet. Not
strong.
on the cheek and forehead.
But kisses are like hugs.
Sometimes I cry when she looks at me. And then she smiled. She takes my hand.
in his hand.
And she pulls a little.
Not hard.
But a little anyway.
She hands soft and warm, mom.
It makes me feel good, and then I cry.
She does not speak. Lastly but not so much. Like me.
At school, I have a friend who is always punished becaufe talkative in class. Me, I'm not
talkative.
Cause I know how to say never. So I say no.
At recess, I would rather run around the yard.
I play turn into dancing myself.
Because it makes me laugh to have his head turned as if I had drunk.
Even if I do not know what it is.
With Mom, I have not need to say. She understands everything.
Because of his eyes.
the morning I like it when she is preparing breakfast.
She thinks about something else. I dunno what. It's as if she is not there.
So I take this opportunity to watch it. I like when she is like this.
She must think she is going to take pictures. I know. She looks happy.
And it makes me laugh 'Cause sometimes she's wrong.
It gives me a cup of coffee instead of my bowl of chocolate.
Whoever is blue. With an orange flower.
She bought it for me and it puts it in the closet downstairs, next to the sink.
Parcequ'au first he was upstairs, but I could not catch him.
Mom had forgotten that I can not open up.
We laughed!
I like it when Mom laughs. Because she has her eyes that are just bent.
As the Chinese.
Finally I know. But it's funny.
And she has nice teeth. Who are all white. And it makes her laugh "i hi i hi i hi".
Makes me want to laugh even more.
She is too beautiful.
There she finished taking the picture.
It will show me, I know. But I wish she'd give me.
Just this one.
I do not know why.
It is because when she was taken, I thought very hard on her.
I love him very hard, Mom.
So it's as if she was in my eye.
Looks like this time it is I who have eaten with my eyes.
.
.
.
(I like the work of Deen. Come discover his universe)
0 comments:
Post a Comment