Lights

Fumes of petty intolerance

Setting flames at war 

She holds the tiny lamp in her palm

The warmth seeping into her scar

Her scar she hid from plain sight

Not darkness she sought for the wound

She carried the burning lamp on it, abright

The light, for the eye, a lampoon

An ode to the lamps
Shining. Almost blazing

Her eyes as she looks into one

Reminiscent. Almost tearing. 

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