06.06.26
A figure, a silhouette–
She dances, she moves.
A free-spirit full of imperfections,
She throws her arms open wide.
She stumbles, she cries.
She sings a painstakingly lovely song.
She breaks, she bleeds.
A child, a vulnerability–
She smiles, she dies.
How weak, how pitiful, how sad!
What a miserable fool, wanting things
That cannot be received cleanly,
Accepting torture and giving in to perilous desires,
She haunts my dreams.
She comes when I lay alone,
Sweating and shivering in my bed.
She follows me,
Silently screaming her patient demands
In my ear all day long.
Go away! Leave me alone!
She’s so far, but ever so close,
An unknown stranger so familiar.
Her black, solid figure represents a fully dimensional being.
She’s a painting, someone’s shadow.
Oh God! She’s mine!
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