The Destruction of Motherhood in Beloved
Sunday is gloomy; the hours are slumberless. Dearest, the shadows I live with are numberless. Little white flowers will never awaken you; not where the dark coach of sorrow has taken you. Darling, I hope that my dream hasn’t haunted you. My heart is telling you how much I wanted you. “Gloomy Sunday” –Bjork Toni …
