Shadow Puppet
You have tampered with my marrow again
Sealed me in the vial of your shadow
Labeled me: rare specimen
Dividing me down to my decimals
I am so far away from the point
I am so far away from the answer
Because I don’t even know what to ask
A puppet flaunting his strings like suspenders
A miracle hidden as a mistake
A wraith of me follows my phantom
My phantom follows my shadow
My shadow is nowhere to be found
Somewhere in an apple orchard at dusk
Sweet and secret as knowledge untasted
I face away, I want to be faceless
Faithful that I will be faithless when I fade away
John Maurer is a 23-year-old writer who writes fiction, poetry, and everything in-between, things that aren’t boring to read, hopefully. He has been previously published at: Claudius Speaks, Quail Bell, The Bitchin’ Kitsch, Thought Catalog, The Scarlet Leaf Review, and The Foliate Oak. @JohnPMaurer
