I must have been born
like this—
right?
Born into this body,
this meat, this carcass,
this breathing, living
thing.
Born into light,
with light within,
for the light.
A light-bearer stands
in darkened fields.
And only there,
in shadows deep,
the light she carries
can be seen.
I walk toward her,
carrying this body,
carrying my questions,
searching for answers,
for relief,
for the source
of this unsettling light.
I must have been born this way—
right?