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Black Lantern

Brian Foley

Blood freckled on the lampshade, throws a shadow against the wall
like a negative spotlight
        from a blind guard tower.
Shade opens a window, as cold as clay.
You dissolve into a dark pool. Your inflamed eyes swimming.
Unable to stand together in the little room, I push like an unborn
from the inside until we both are outside, born again in boiling water
And weeping for our mothers.

Brian Foley

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