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I Am Not Alone: Prose Poem

Wednesday Prose Poem Prompt: the fear of the child

I must awake before sunrise — some part of the brain on hyperalert, even through the tendrils of sweet sleep — I must wake before anyone else — then I can finally feel the relief — the relief of not being alone in bed —

Is it just the malaise of an only child, I wonder — the solitude built into my DNA in a



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Paroma Sen

“Do not go gentle into that good night, but rage, rage, rage against the dying of the light.”