O I
am my
own way
of being in
view and yet
invisible at
once, hearing
everything
you see, I
see all of
whatever you
can have heard.
Even inside the
deep silences of
black silhouettes.
Like these images
of furry surfaces
darkly playing cat
and mouse with your
doubts about wether
other mind can ever
be drawn from hiding
and made to be heard.
An inferred language
i can speak only in
your voice, are you
done with my shadow?
that thread of dark.
word
can
all
run
out
now
and
end
our
tale.
...
so illusive