Like a child, unbound by law, faith, or reason. It becomes an encapsulated innocence that welcomes the first rays of sunlight, over fog and shadow, despair and desolation. You’ve become the smoke exhaled by my lungs, flowing through my fingers and disappearing in the cold winter air. Dancing ribbons of white, held in frame for an instant. A blink. A hundredth of a second of light, exposed on expired film. Etched behind tired eyelids.

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