“Adults develop a fixation on things they
were deprived of in their childhood.”
I once heard
Mama telling stories
Of your childhood
As she flipped the pages
Of the old photo album
You had no shoes
And wore slippers to school
Wondering where they could lead you
After your classmates
Made up stories of wonderful places
They had been to
Quite too far and rocky
For your rubber slippers to reach
At home
You kept your slippers
Untouched under the bed
And walked around barefooted
Toes spreading against the floor
You whispered to me
While we waited for sleep
That it would make their life
Longer as your own
Even if sometimes
You wounded your soles
With broken glass
And cried silently in pain
Now you travel everywhere
Buy expensive sandals
And durable Italian shoes
You keep wearing
Even at home –
Believing they will take you places
You have never gone to
And will protect you
From all wounds
