It exists as a shadow would in a dark room.
Impalpable, invisible
yet the air feels darker there, heavier.
It follows me making footsteps that never touch the floor.
Silent, inaudible
yet I feel the air shift after each pace.
It touches me somehow, without informing my skin.
Cold, internal
yet I feel the bumps emerge on my chilled forearms.


I have been trying to capture it
years spent looking over my shoulder
It knows where my eyes end
It hides in the unreachable crook in my back.
It sings
the songs
I once knew
the words to.