Silhouettes

My daughter creates a silhouette of us,
my figure carried within her own 
 
as once my body did hers.
We are black and white images, 
 
opposites and oppositional, 
a disordered flight of butterflies,
 
rising. I am encapsulated,
absorbed. I burrow deep,
 
let her carry me into the next world,
a small fluttering no one sees.  

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