In a blink,
impact.

Syrup-salt of sorrow.

You are not once
what you were,
with your many faces,
deceptive promises and
intense draw.
In lifted fog
I see,
returning my gaze,
eyes missing clarity and joy, while
I gain understanding,
at last-
I lent the passion
for our fire to burn.
The flame is mine.
Now, I carry it close
to warm and light my own way.

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