On this the darkest day, the longest night, I’m left wrestling with an angel who dares me to let go, but I won’t because the morning has not yet broken, and I have not yet been blessed. These angels are not fluffy bundles of feathers and painted smiles. They can put the fear in you and your bones right out of joint. I am tired of this fight, this lengthening night, but I am locked in embrace till I see your face. The light will dawn and you will say my name, and then I will know my contender. Then my limp will be my trophy.

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