hangs behind, strides Ahead,
in the ability to pass through, cross beyond,
a traveler in this bright world of color-
Sights and Sounds that SMASH!-
Noise and Emotion, Panic and Pain….
You creep through, just a passer-by
returning to a different time, a different life,
on a cloudy day.
What, then, of there?
when in this world you are but a sliver of darkness-
existence depending all upon the rays of the sun-
charcoal and graphite and steel-
barely there, a flitting thing, a
Imitation, sliding and skidding
ash and smoke and slate,
Who are you -
when you are not me?
In your world-
A dystopia of ghosts and glimmers, shades and phantoms of what is, what was, what might have Been,
pewter faces, onyx hands, crystal-white eyes-
the mirror of me?
me as I might have been, as they long for me to be,
a better girl than the one of flesh and bone and blood?
in a drifting world, where
Constellations spin, wheel
through skies of spiders, dust clouds of stars shining through;
a galaxy of imitation, that in turn is spun, will spin, and become
Beautiful, macabre, haunting
me, like the strands of a lonely piano
ebony and ivory,
as the violin weeps from out of sight.
You, the other me,
my friend, my companion,
s t a l k i n g
through the sun, hunting in the light
two compatriots bound together for life, tied by a bond
than blood, broken
Only when my aged and weary body can no longer walk in the light-
and then you will comfort me in the darkness,
Together, you and I
Shades in the soul, soul in the