The Shadow
I gaze at you softly.
Every time we cross the flowery path.
I gaze at you, quiet as a dead mouse.
I know.
That she already, subtly,
Noticed me.
We already had our Last Supper,
Together with the steak
And your dry cough.
And that she placed down her fork and knife,
Ever so gently.
I, know.
Like night and day,
That cannot be joined,
“I” am
A ‘Shadow.’
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