Quiet Hope

from paradise
to home.
to a family in mourning 
who grows & shrinks constantly.

children given.
children taken.

calling home i mask any elation buried in my voice,
fortuity veiling pain.

but not loneliness,
who teases me from beneath a couple
laid over & under one another,
scratching &
feeding.

a detesting sight.

yet, as i swear i am meant to die alone,
i cross my fingers & think of you.

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Categories: Photography, Poetry, UncategorizedTags: , , , , , , , , , ,

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