i wrap my hand around this light
waiting for the heat to numb it
to leave it coiled and hard
bones curved and stretched
and then left dried
till you cannot unbend it
one day i will tell them
the young ones
how i fought for light
and show them this scar of a hand
they will not believe me
because there was no world that existed before them
but in the night they will dream of it
and taste it on their tongues
the sweet of clarity and the burning away
of all else but the light
the story will go on
as it always has.
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