she hands her scars
to the darkness
it holds the promise
of erasure, the possibility
of sanctuary
where no one might see
the wounds she’s borne
or the places which
are still tender
she feels safe there
where she thinks
she is not noticed
but i see her
and want to tell her
that she does not
have to dwell there
among the shadows
that there is sun
waiting to touch
her skin
that i
am waiting
but i,
myself,
am sunk
deep in
a thick
silence
unable to
even gesture
so we stand
each of us
in our own quiet
narinda heng 