LAST SHADOW
by Nicki Heinen
There may be another one of me,
a shadow,
sitting in a pool of silver light across the bay,
cross-universe, another one of me cross-legged,
sitting listening and gazing quietly back.
Shadow?
Hair pricks on my neck.
The sea sucks at the cliffs,
I know you’re there.
Cloud arched like a leopard’s back,
moon pushing silver on a tiled floor.
Tar-sprinkled sky.
What does it matter, when there is silver on the floor?
One star…two stars…three…
The moon makes a white skin across the water,
I’ll run to get to you,
perhaps before daybreak we’ll meet.
I’d like you, I suppose,
because I’m getting older and I have more to regret.
I regret the silvery street made for me by the moon,
because I’m at the cliff edge and I see nothing stopping me from
jumping to meet you.
When we meet you will close your eyes
and I’ll see the feathered darkness of your eyelids
as you put your hand on mine.
I’ll close my lashes and see crimson,
I’ll feel your breath on my arm
as you bend to see
if we have matching moles.
Our eyes will flare
as the clouds
join our feet.
We’ll drink cognac
and sit cross-legged,
till the sun warms us.
You will be more
beautiful than I imagined,
more fragile.
If I put my hand through yours it will break.