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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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