Shaded

My shadow wears
My true face as a mask
A cloak of memories
A second skin
And it knows
This, a truest order of things

Its hair, likened to…
The Strands of the base filaments of existence
My shadow is a weakened pulse
Flailing in an ocean
Toward the trench
It slowly descends, with untold time…

VM Vindheim ©2012

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