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Jun 2020
light like a razor blade
I squint
at a pointed shadow,
a thief, I thought,
but it was a cop.

his flashlight
stabs at stuffed animals
and plaid school skirt.
voice gruff
mother’s anxiety pools
in heated, clammy hands,
and when he leaves,
boots threatening,
she follows, rambling.

I wonder how
a man can mistake a child
for an adult.
but maybe,
he just liked rattling the cage
his badge built around us.
Kelsey Banerjee
Written by
Kelsey Banerjee  27/F
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