to my dear me,
appearing still in three d

i remember you
playing catch with me
trying to out run me
childishly and laughing

i remember you
grimacing a svelter figure
composing a pose
with some lover

i notice often now your alarm
for this unidimensional you
gets plural in the downing of days
and you look for which of me is you then

but which of you is me then
is really what's troubling you
because don't you see it you're growing flat
and i surely dream not of roundness

so dear me in such a
dimension of extinction
oblige me and let me catch you
you my antumbra from my point of view

you run out of light i am a lesser pale shade of you
we know we shall fully fit into a penumbra

                                                       ­                                  your devoted shadow