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Shadows
The table, the chair,
The light upon my face,
And the hope that I shine
Upon your eyes
As well as I do
In this corner
Filled with sun.
The furniture gleams –
So must I
You see the glow
Of my skin
And think it
An offering to you
As is the hand
Lain upon the table
Waiting for you touch.
This place
Was not chance chosen
For here I can make a beacon
Of my own banked fires,
But you are not to know that
Therefore I – we are
Where I cannot help
But shimmer
And that which blinds
Is my smile.
