A Perfect Love

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Here is a Shadow

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here is a

shadow,

it is given

its shape

by another,

upon which it

is wholly

dependent.

as the sun

glides across

the sky,

watch the

shadow grow,

contract,

darken,

become more

obtuse.

revel in the

silhouette,

its illusion of

such sharp

and pristine

clarity.

ponder the

shadow,

dig deep,

consider it

from afar

and then

penetrate

its dark

depths,

as it is

the only

way back. – TS

In the Dark of Light (Poem)

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In the Dark of Light

In the light I play,

porous and awash under sun,

where the colours are more

than they are, strewn upon the ground

in their wildest symmetries –

and I am emerging into

all that I am, until the

sun sees through me

and I can’t bring my body to

hold its luminescence –

I close my eyes and wait

for nature’s rhythms to carve

smooth this rupture.

Colors and shapes dance ecstatic

before my eyes to their own echo, and in

this shadowy place I retreat,

not quite unafraid, having birthed

in its swell of memories,

certain now that the absence of

earthly hues I’ve tried to

forge into my skin is

today’s calling,

so I enter and rest, soothing

my frantic chest, swimming through

and whispering into the silence

while my bones quiver, threatening to fall –

I reach one hand out to catch

what light I can and hold

the other to close me,

to draw out another

piece of the dark.