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Deep blue anger
      burns defiant in the silences of night.

It’s all I see --
      a light at this dim tunnel’s end,
          as if a sapphire blaze
               could keep the final dark at bay.

Frightening --
     to see your helpless rage,
           to wake and feel your anguish
                 in the desperate tightness of your grip.

It must have been bad for you
     this time --

I don’t remember much, just pain,
     then nothing,
         for how long?

Your eyes tell me how scared you are,
     but I’m still here,
          rejoicing in your touch,
          so long denied by plague
                and cold glass walls.

I know that lonely place you’re in,
     I’ve been there once or twice,
          but -- "Starsk?"

Dark lashes sweep the anger from your gaze
     and drop a single burning tear
          on my cold hand --

Absolution for the sin
     of nearly leaving you
           to face mortality alone.

                             Rachel Duncan
                             (3-11)
                                    1981