the ghost's shadow

I am the shadow’s ghost, not even real but the unreal

The remnants of nothing and still lingering

A fading scent that was never there

The step not taken and the footprint which has not been left

the time that was not ticking, no pendulum clock pounding away those seconds that have not passed

stretched beyond nothing, yet the tension between the ends lies empty with friction

a phantom's phantom in a dreamless dream

space condensed turning the black to white

nothing to dig, nothing to bury

I am the shadow's ghost and the ghost is my shadow