the Shape of a Child
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I saw the shape of a child, standing in a photograph.
The memory stirs at something inside
I raised the shape of a child
Fed, taught, clothed
A placeholder in this space.
The shape stained photographs
Where a little girl should be
We didn’t know because we couldn’t see her
For three years we created memories
we now aren’t sure are true.
One day she found herself
She led us to understand
Gradually this shape became a child
And a sweet girl appeared in my photographs
Without realizing, I let go of the shape
While knowing she was always there.
She became who she always was
exactly what we needed
The same compelling mind, same skin
The honesty fills a void
Where a daughter raised a mother
And my photographs held truth again.