Sunset, in Summer

In the hour between day and night,
he is outside, with you,
cradling his hands
bringing them upward
and covering the fire fly
before it takes off again.

He brings it over to me,
his hands holding the secret of light,
and I think about how I want to cradle him.
I want to hold him between my hands,
as if he is my secret to keep,
safe from a world of unknown.

I know that I cannot.

I need to be like him
as he lets go of the one he is holding
and it lazily flies away from us
lighting up as it goes.

I watch as he takes off in the weak light
to find another one to hold
something he can keep,
even if just for a moment,
before night fully falls.

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