My Shadow and Your Shadow

I’m sitting in my kitchen boiling lonely macaroni

and I miss you, oh I miss you, like a wave would miss the ocean.

If waves had to keep on rolling and were forced to go to meetings.

But I still feel a stirring, an itching and a twitching.

That says we’re still connected across all the dreary distance

and all the weary borders, all the meters feet and inches.

All the the time that hangs around us,

as the lonely macaroni boils itself away.

 

And I think your shadow and my shadow have been slipping off unnoticed

and flitting along highways and meeting up in nightclubs.

Where our shadows dance unnoticed in the shadows of the dancers.

‘Cause my shadow likes your shadow and I think she shares the feeling.

For I’ve often glimpsed our shadows making love upon the wall.

And hugging in the morning as the early morning sunlight

cuts across the half made lunches and throws our shadows snuggling

across the bills stuck to the fridge door by a stolid wall of magnets.

 

And I know that all the thinkers who have thought upon these magnets

and have measured out the physics so that waves don’t leave the ocean

and very seldom go to meetings although I think they should more

would say my talk of shadows who slip away unnoticed

and cast themselves on sidewalks beside benches that are empty

is nothing but an image that is fleeting

across a mind that’s maddened by too much lonely macaroni.

 

But  I hope your shadow and my shadow

if they slip away unnoticed to hang out in a nightclub

to make love up the wall.

May have at least a shadow of a shadow of that feeling

that itches out and reaches across the miles to you.

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