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Shadow cast upon the wall:
An outline of me that I don’t recognize.
I don’t recognize him because,
He’s living a life with which I am not familiar.
Sometimes there are two shapes,
Two shapes of two men laughing, kissing, hugging.
A normal person would scream as if haunted by ghosts,
But I cry because my shadow is happier, living better than I.
I cannot take refuge in bed,
Because the second silhouette follows me there.
No matter how much I toss and turn and kick,
I cannot shake the apparition lying on the other pillow.
The old wood creaks when I least expect it.
It is the sound of the footsteps of a man who’s not there.
My friends say that the ghost is trying to terrify me—
I believe that he desires to be here as much as I want him here,
And this is his only way of getting my attention.
The second chair in the dining room aches for weight,
But alone I sit at the table, eating my food;
All the while the second silhouette stands beside me, hovering,
As if it is his utmost desire to sit and eat with me.
Escaping to my car is not an option to evade him,
Because sitting in the passenger seat is an outline of him looking at me.
And his eyes...
Although he is smiling, his eyes are the eyes of a mistreated dog,
Eyebrows sinking like upturned canoes.