my shadow

i usually see her from behind, 

her long legs stretching sidewalk strides 

keeping our distance seductively wide.

her back Ieaks soft spinal peaks 

and whispers of a language that I doubt that she speaks

but there is a story there 

painfully placed by needles and ink

with the brim of her skirt kissing the concrete 

a lift of knee reveals her narrow feet

walking a thin line created so discrete 

that no one else but her could see