Sunday, October 9, 2011

shadow love

I feel like a shadow, peevishly following my corpse through the street.
I don’t have eyes to see you, my hand is a vapor to your touch,
But I sense you reach for me, and it is all too lovely, and it is all too much.

I feel so flat and earthbound in this dark, frail silhouette,
And I’m wary of your hunt within the boundaries of my printless tread.
I do not like this suit of dust, it is uncomfortable; I would go unfed.

But I sense your touch.
It is too lovely.
Too much.

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