Eveleen
Abadir

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بوست إنستجرام

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Un fragment d’identité entre mémoire et couleur.

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Last night, I dreamed of my mother. She stood there, surrounded by an intense, blinding light. She didn’t speak… she just looked at me in silence. I woke up, trying to convince myself it was truly her, but something inside me couldn’t fully grasp it. She felt close, yet unreachable. I called for her… but she never answered. I fell asleep again, hoping to find her once more. When I woke up, I kept searching… because I miss her more than words can ever hold. She visits me in silence, wrapped in light, and even without a single word, I feel everything.