Silhouette

Nullifying the lips of an accented silhouette 
Sweet, round edges, production in shadows 
Silencing arrows piercing false flesh 
Bleeding out in matted configurations that no one knows
No details to distinguish the ink figures apart from 'who'
No pretty face to set eyes upon, no eyes to set upon you
crepitus sounds whining within, no one hears, only  reflection's footsteps 
Walking side by side,  helplessly dragged along the transit 
Bitter, it is, to be a figure on the sidewalk
Strikingly too close to color 
lost so clearly
but no one looks to see
What is it you think you see my brother?