Most of us listening keep our eyes closed
while one of my students in prison
is reading a story written by a boy who goes blind.
The boy discovers a light inside
that feels joyful except when he's afraid.
When I look for my light within
it feels harsh.
After class is over, my student says, "You fell asleep while I was reading."
When I protest, "No way,"
light in her eyes plays with mine.
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