Will you be enough to fill in the dark space that takes the shape of your silhouette?
Measure up the the hollow image formed from your form, but stretched by perception and a trick of the eye.
Who am I to you?
Was it a shadow — that alluring mystery — that drew you here?
How many seconds before the light dissolves that darkness,
And you see the life that cast the flat image?
Will you long for the shadow then,
And wish you’d kept your ignorance, your bliss?
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