LatinosUSA

When I open my bag
My fingers grope for hope
some light that I must’ve stolen
as a souvenir
from the rainforests, a long time ago
because in between tears
it’s hard to look for things
like lost pathways in dense jungles
the light reminds me to find again
some days that I left behind
in that Indonesian thicket
my body hugging those trees
and my soul falling with the leaves…

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