we are shadows in the night...

You are the shadow at 1am under lamplight when reflections dance on the willamette. It doesn't matter where I turn there they are, lurking, wavering, shadows of self and life. And I run down the bike path and stop to look back. At home there's a person in the bed and he's called me a liar. At home there's a girl faking sleep. And in the morning she fakes peace as he leans in to kiss her goodbye. Un-stirring aware. I feel empty. There isn't a one way bus stop in this town. I can't ride my bike fast or far enough. In three years I didn't think I'd still be fighting with my emotional paralysis, these shadows in the night.