Silhouettes

I know in the back of my mind

That silhouettes are deceptive 

Yet, I choose to be naive 

And let them amuse me with their cunning beauty.

They have this element of mystery 

Which, once left to my imagination 

Can become anything but the obvious

And the outline, the half truth, is the only clue I have.

Light looks good, only behind them 

Because I don't want reality 

To snap me out of this dreamy trance 

Where the only tyrant is my temptation.

But somehow, in the end
It is always the luminous curiosity
That takes over my free will
And finally exposes my beloved silhouettes.