there is a red shoejust there
half buried beneath the sand
can you see it?
barely the size of my left hand.
whoever he was,
I bet his mother thought his laughter weaved a halo
around his head
I’ll bet she longs to feel her body throbbing with deep primal agony,
as he enters the world anew
I’ll bet she laughed with him
and sometimes scolded him harshly,
I’ll bet she misses him
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