Today I watched a man learning to see. I watched his shoulders tense at a streetcorner, trying to learn the steps, trying to sense when to stop, when to go, when to pause. His acute frustration as I see this is bare trust, faith to be kept safe, to learn to walk not alone, but as one.    My heart tangled up in itself. I saw men in line for something close to nothing, women with gravelly lungs reaching to be heard. Wisps of faith keeping us here, trying to hold on, trying to see. Trying. (I see how we all walk the line. I see how you sit, pensively, trying, squeezing my hand while I do the same. Do you see how when your eyes open and close, how I love you?)


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