Shadows Dance

In the corner where the lamp cannot reach,
something moves in rhythm with the silence.
It has no name, this darkness.

The ceiling fan traces its ancient waltz,
and the shadow bows in return,
a partner who knows all the steps.

I have learned their language now—
the way they speak without sound,
the way they touch without weight.

When the light finally fades completely,
I will join them in the dark,
and we will dance forever.