Your shadow is a silhouette within
when sighing of cruel silence comes to call
my mind to dance a distance that depends. 

From corners of my longing, you ascend
& brush my face & float into my all—
a shadow that’s the silhouette within. 

The quirk of lip, the quest of hand, that wends
past wearied days & weathered, stony walls:
My mind a’dance a distance that depends. 

Your phantom fingers trace what they intend
til you & I, in one expressive sprawl,
are shadows kissing silhouettes within. 

I taste you still—a past that yet portends
a future of this waiting that forestalls
you mine: A dance & distance that depends. 

Can we become true union & transcend
one man, one woman, flesh that’s born to fall,
when shadows past are silhouettes within
two minds that dance in distance?  It depends.