Pushing Silhouettes

Only your silhouette
seems as strong as you
should be
because it is twice your size
when you are ten feet
away from the light,
away from
me.

Your legs swing over
fast, and the smooth ivory
of your back,
polished with sweat
(like some idol),

stares at me in the buzzlight
of a lamp until I turn away,
too.

Then we are both
pushing our silhouettes
into opposite corners, growing bigger
growing
away from our bed
away from each other.

We are becoming
walls.