Stories from The Moon / Cuentos de la Luna

It’s no coincidence that the thirty years that I’ve lived are the same amount of years that I’ve known you. Don’t have babies, you say. Is it because I felt like an extra weight inside your womb? Is it because it took me nine months to grow inside of you? How odd that after thirty years, you’re beginning to grow on me. Don’t take me wrong, you say. I love you but don’t have babies. Trust me, I am your mother.