was
breathing in the tarnished weight of silver skies,
was
trapped there between forgetting and forgotten,21 years of pointless starvation,
air thick with the approach of rain,
distant pulse of passing trains,
and the child in the back seat made no sound
had
no hands
looked
a little like me, but i no longer took
responsibility
for any of the pain in the world
i
no longer walked
when
it was easier to crawl
had
finally become my father
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