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Sia Harms Mar 23
You are an unspoken word--

              You are the glow behind
                 thin leaves at goldenhour.

You are the stillness of
the reeds before the tide
  begins to shift—

                  You are the truth
              that promotes gratitude
                     rather than tears.

You are the long breath,
the release of anxiety
    at dusk--

              You are First, the warmth
                   that melts all of my
                     coveted selfishness.

You are the burnt cinnamon
of cardigans from those
   who are lost--

                   You are the silence
                      of crashing waves
                       and white noise.

You are all that I have come
     to love.
Waiting in the afterburn of a photo,
The summer sun seared into my eyes,
Feeling the blurry space of filled time.

Long-forgotten jokes tight in my chest,
A constant smile developing worry lines—
I watched the goldenhour subside.

Where would the memories go,
If I did not grab hold of them?

A soft pink veil filtered the internal upset,
A clock ratcheting in my headspace--
Limbs lengthened, faces matured,
And I was left wondering at what point
I started living in fear
Of watching the time go, adrift without
The guide of the lighthouse of childhood.

— The End —