But Now
I traipse, absorbed
in a darkness so viscous
with sorrow, blind
even to the form
of my own
hand, unable to draw
back the opaque
drapes of melancholy
until I catch
a glint of light, swiftly
chased by another:
reflections that dance
off of two crooked
teeth. Like light—
house beacons,
they pull me through
the shadows. I push
forward, moving
to a sound—
track of giggles,
punctuated
by a single word:
Mama.
I am found.
***
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