passing light

she hands her scars
to the darkness

it holds the promise
of erasure, the possibility
of sanctuary

where no one might see
the wounds she’s borne
or the places which
are still tender

she feels safe there
where she thinks
she is not noticed

but i see her

and want to tell her
that she does not
have to dwell there
among the shadows

that there is sun
waiting to touch
her skin

that i
am waiting

but i,
myself,
am sunk
deep in
a thick
silence

unable to
even gesture

so we stand
each of us
in our own quiet

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