Grope

It happens once in a while
That this large shadow grows over the wall
I get close to it, grope it and feel it up
To the very content of my heart
And when I am done with it
The shadow sways to the back of my head.

Sometimes I holds its hands in mine
Sometimes I will caress its hair
Sometimes just stare into its eyes
And some other times just let myself go
Completely into its darkness
Let myself go.

Its ambiguous shape and supple curves
Its naivety, its frailness, its nothingness
I want to hold it tight and keep it close to my chest
Where my warmth will never let it go...

Perhaps I will be the one to please the shadow someday
Be the one it reaches out to, be the one pulled in...
Still, a shadow is but a shadow
Just a shadow.

Supple, supple, supple
Supple ambiguity and doubts
I am not sure what I am anymore
I am not sure... Of what I want anymore.

Author's Note

Journal entry.

Image source: http://danbooru.donmai.us/post/show/807075/flandre_scarlet-monochrome-plus-kitsch-shadow-touh