Shadow

Some times I reach for it,

The shadow in my bed.

Someone is there.

Someone I can touch.

I fall for the trick. Every. Time.

My mind, my rules.

The shadow is special.

Distinctive in my open eye fantasy.

I feel for its' presence; it's form.

I know I will never grasp what I project from my mind

A self-aware and intimate illusion

I lie awake in a room choked with moonlight.

I could say the shadow haunts me

But that is too cruel a definition.

The shadow does not help or harm, but assure.

A reminder of the present and

A projection of a murky future.

For now, the shadow will remain

A familiar stranger shifting in the sheets beside me

And I will continue to extend an encouraging arm when I want to dream.

Always ready for the shadow in my bed to disappear.