I will have to gather
All my shadows together,
Not like an army
Defending my body and mind,
Not like a wall, stone cold-
No; more like: to find
What is left of the real things
In me.

Because look; it’s like this-
See: shadows are not shadows to me
Any longer-
Black is not black in the way
It is to others.
And white, in a sense, is not white
And I am not even fighting
Not even-
Writing about it.

For here is why:
Daylight makes edges too sharp
For their contours to melt.
So, as for my heart, I speak
Only to you-
Do you see them-
Do you see the shadows, too?

And even now-
Even this was not a question.
For it is only why I want to be
With you.