How to Teach a Shadow to Speak

First,

turn toward the place

where your shadow waits.

It knows you,

even when you have forgotten

your own outline.

Do not demand language.

Shadows have only silence at first —

a hush made of all the words

you buried to keep living.

Sit beside it.

Offer your stillness.

It will learn your breath

before it learns your name.

You will think

it is only darkness,

a smudge at your heel.

But look closely —

it trembles like a small animal

who once belonged to you.

Tell it a story

you were afraid to tell yourself.

Half-truths are enough.

Shadows understand the parts

you leave out.

Then —

ask nothing.

Just listen

to the quiet shifting

of something that was broken

learning how to gather itself again.

In time,

it will form a syllable.

Not with sound,

but with movement —

the slight reaching forward

of a darker version of your hand.

Speak softly to match it.

You are teaching each other.

If it cries,

let it.

Tears belong to both of you.

When it finally stands beside you

without shaking,

do not rush.

Let it borrow your voice

for a while.

And when the shadow

whispers back —

in a language made

of hesitation and truth —

you will realize

it is not learning to speak.

It is remembering.

And so are you.