Clutching his fur, I spoke the Word.

You. I stood to face you at the door.

The wall was like you, wide and expressionless.

In fact, everything about the darkness was so like you…

Coldness, passive obfuscation, and contrast to all that is naturally knowable

And life-giving.

But I love the dark.

Why you gotta take every good thing away?

I stood before the doorway,

I let Simon go, and he ran to the window.

You stood as a tower, between my sister and I.

And your hatred for the children is exactly why

I could find the courage to slash your throat.


But not the opportunity. Not the timing. That belonged to you.

And you took it.

You took the thing away.



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