she’s followed me home every day this month,
lurking in shadows, just out of sight. first
I laughed at my own conceit, my own sad
paranoia. but then a friend asked me
about my shadow, so I watched closer,
more surreptitious, and there she was, coy
as moonlight and insidious as night.
last night, I heard her panting outside my
window, her heavy breath dogging me deep
into the night, into dreams rife with fear
and shadow, terror nameless at every
turn, coarse broadcloth of night devoid of stars
though saturated in threat smell of fear
sweat, and always her heavy breaths hounding.

dmpitchford