Light Inhabited

He stares at me like
my skin
is alive with fireflies
creating constellations
in my eyes
and I am but a hive of

I am so gone,
because he stares at me
like I am light inhabited
and I wish I could show him
just how endless the dark sits
in the pits of my insides.

I wear brightness as disguise.

I let shadows love me
with the pull of the tides
and I watch
his heart beat
in the palms of my hands,
sift out the glass in the sand,
grow ash on driftwood and

I watch the fire die
and want to tell him
no amount of lit jars
with holes poked in the lid
will bring him back to life.

illumination is hiding
a soul painted in twilight,
just trying to survive.


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