You go first, parting it with your fingers
my breath which is spectral,
my fear which is fog.
Continue beyond my own dark passing of time
to the other side of hours
to the place of sun, a place of sun
and colors we did not even know could happen.
Once there, remember upon looking back
to bridge your arm, your hand
drawing me out from the gray moments
away from my own netted shadow
until I am stumbling free, moving into clear air,
loving the light above
all else.
["Breaking the Veil" first appeared in the author's book Uncommon Geography (Carpenter Gothic, 2006)]
Therese Halscheid
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