the gentlest witness

he told me he knew how badly the townsfolk had hurt me.

he knew it back then, when i had already removed myself from the map and his messages went unanswered.

he said he was sorry.

for what they did to me. and for how easily they paraded me through their little circus, gave me teeth, and let the crowd throw stones. he was sorry, too, for not being there when it mattered.

i did not know what to say.

so i looked at him, really looked at him, and saw that life had not spared him either.

something in me came back to shore that day. someone had carried a small light for me while i was gone.