Half shadow
Your silhouette imprinted on mine is the ultimate awakening. After you sleep for years, it feels lovely to find your shadow. To see all your dust and dirt and all the identity. This is how you breathe. How you sing after seventeen years of being born. Cicadas dance underground until the anniversary of their birth. They come from the dirt. They rise. From all the sea in your shake and the mist in the musky smell of abandoned attic. Do not forget where you stand. High and chin up. Limp shoulders and all that woman in your fingers. You are not hanging by a thread. You are breaking loose. Becoming one with your darkness.
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