At first, we walk, hand in hand
My shadow’s grip a comforting sort of strong
Our hearts bound together with soft blue ribbon
Beating in unison to a single, noble snare
An imperfect rhythm in five

We stride up moonlit, forgotten paths
Where flowers have been crushed among the cobblestones
My shadow turns to me and asks in a whisper:
“What makes your cheeks reflect the stars?”
I haven’t a clue if it’s sweat or tears – I’m too afraid to find out

As I tread further from the light behind me, within me
My shadow stretches away
Extending his long, thin, gossamer fingers to brush the horizon ahead
Dancing ever so lightly on toes made of midnight
He taunts me

Then his contours waver
And he jumps
Straight off the edge of Knowing
Landing hard
As if immediately stitched fast to the fabric of Almost

And another sun rises.