Sometimes in corresponding
With the dead it feels like
We are both in different
Kinds of prisons a glass wall
Between us you tell me
About your classes the concerts
The friends you're making
I never met my mother's mother
But she came to me in a dream
She was just sixteen
We talked for hours
But I don't remember a thing
Except the jade earrings she wore
How they answered her eyes
That smile passed down
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