by Mickey Redant
Again, I find myself scrying our river
orange streetlamp halo shielding me
from the night so black.
Where was it that we sprang from?
To what source does ‘us’ go back?
In this fluid dark,
I want to find you,
but the shadow of my own
damned tears is all
I can track.
Mickey Redant is a writer from Belgium, who earns a living working as a heritage librarian. He can be found on Instagram @m.d.redant.
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