PENUMBRA

A blurry, clear picture of you
I found, perfect for you.

In your room at night
turning out your light,

passing through its yellow glow
your movement blurs you.

You’re blurry and blurring,
indistinct and moving
through indistinction.

I’ve never seen anyone like you
for smearing the view – the truth
was the only distraction you never mastered.

The life you lived
was not a lie – yet its truth
was never seen by any one
but you alone. So

how did I capture you
in your native form –

moving
between disguises?