I wake up to find
the silhouette of a man
in the doorway of my childhood bedroom,
his elastic shadow stretched too long
within a single beam of light
on the floor.
He doesn’t have the same shape
as my father or my older brother.
He is taller and leaner.
I can’t see any of his features,
just the outline of short, spiky hair
on top of his head.
He is a shadow himself, it seems.
Motionless, silent.
I lie as still as I can,
holding my breath.
I squeeze my eyes tight,
open them,
and he is gone.
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