Sometimes I joke my melanistic friend
is the nighttime sky approaching a lightningless
thunderstorm.
Other times I say he is the embodiment
of a quandary.
I see his face and think to myself
"quandary."
His eyes are too dark.
Sometimes, when I wave to him from across the street,
I think I'm looking into a black hole.
Once I told him I thought he was the shadow
of his shadow,
and he did not try to disabuse me;
we both practice acatalepsy,
he and I,
so he might truly be darkness.
A quiet, never-ending thunderstorm.
Or a galaxy,
with all the shining stars,
collected in his teeth.
August 9, 2015
Lilly Stuart
Hello all! I wrote this a little while ago, and edited it a bit today. I'd love to hear what you think of it?
Thanks for reading!
