Of Biblical Proportions 

I tell the little girl who lives inside my head, don’t look straight at the sun. She knows by heart the encantations  against fear and the haunting past we once lived in together like a candy house in a crumb-consuming forest. Leave stones instead along the path home.  Watch out for cages and unexpected hunger. You think it will be the wolf you must run from when all along the danger is so near, crouched in the corner of everything, assuming the guise of the familiar.

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