Whole

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Lights on in the building across the street
Shadows, swift, slither past windows
Mirror me, be whole
for me, hollowed and afflicted,
missing pieces left in lakes and lecture halls,
both fleshy, raw, and intangible
With asymptotic closeness you mock and intrigue
but the distance, the distance,
is always between
Maybe one day we'll meet, when infinity
closes its long stretching fist.
But whose shadow am I? Whose
whole to a part?
Whose silhouette in the window
across the street?