The passage holds a light,
between drinkers and vagrants,
my youngest suffers in silence,
places like pig styes,
behind the lip of alleys,
where cruise ships lie,
I go forward with a sigh,
my mind an oasis contained,
far from the tourist cries,
their hands are tied,
what you'd expect anyway,
sun, sex,sea and sky,
still my daughter's dying,
is no one to blame,
I dream of islands,
wait for lamps to shine,
a chapel's sweet gaze,
loving darkness night,
bow to an ancient flame.
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