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What the Dark Reveals photo

I wake to the shuffle of wind along the sill.
The soft moon hue weighs on my blanket, saying nothing.
From the fragile dark, experiences remembered
become rocks tied to my ankles and feelings churn for hours.
How in those days I thought I knew myself well, and wonder now
why she seems like a stranger. How in those days I had alliances.
We shared wine and meals, swam in lakes, protested together.
Where are those friends now? Many nights what I wish
would fade away like far-off animal sounds in the hills
edges upward as if I know they are coming
before they are coming. And my mind is on fire.
I wake exhausted, ask if this is my new existence—
this ancestry of flailing memories and broken sleep.
I say no more sloughing off what the dark reveals.
I face the mirror, hold myself and all my shadows.
At first light, I search for photographs,
boxes of letters, report cards, our family tree.

image: Aaron Burch