a faint outline of affection floats among the reels, a breeze blown through sparks, a mother, a daughter, yes, an ice cream and sand ashimmer beside giggles and giggle and giggles, and, yes, beside giggles and tears, beside a child’s shoelace abandoned to the swell, and tinned spaghetti, too, adrift in giggles, bobbing nearby and out, drifting to where a misty figure looks my way, her face a void, a void, a face

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