—-Refracting timidly from
his wispy, calloused fingertips,
his unsteady, languid flesh,
and his quivering, sapphire irises
was a most unobtrusive flare of light;
a light quietly and meticulously veiled,
a light seeking incandescence—
a light he perceived to be a burden.
“I-I’m sorry, you do have the wrong address…this is an i-infirmary. I…I know where a b-bakery is, so I c-could lead you there if you…you would like me to…"