black and white

you were
my crescented moon,
reflecting veiled
sunbeams in the dark,
questioning the night
and interrupting my
fitful sleeps.

now I wake to moonless nights,
after watching monochromatic
dreams starring you,
hanging above my head
in fixed spots.

these are dark moments,
waiting for vague whispers of
the birth of another moon.

shadow

your shadows linger
in the most unexpected places,
in pickle jars, at the bottom of
a cup of tea, on the labels
of exotic mango juice.
and there is no place
I can take refuge, no place
where your shadows do not fall.

In the mornings I still talk to you,
still feel the slow breathing
of wintertime weekends.
The daydreams seem not to fade
with the passing of difficult days.
So I embrace the shadow,
tightly hug the bitter strands
of desperation
and inhale the remains of an air
that is laced with the heaviness
of your shadows.