She grasps my heels day in and day out.
Never letting go.
In the bright light, she does not hide out.
And in the dark, she runs off on her own.
She plays with the other dark things
She is content on her own.
She loves the birds and the leaves.
I don’t talk to her much, and I leave her alone.
Until one day she met another figure, as dark as black stone
One that was different from the birds and the bees
And the clouds and the trees.
His shadow spoke to mine
And mine to his.
They held hands and played and kissed in time
Even though my eyes never met his.