Edgar Suit

I found a way to find you out
You shift far too much to keep your shadow a doubt
It picks you apart
You're left handed when I'm not around

Taking in more breaths than you'll ever need to let out
You're suspending your heart
You creep past the Sun as if it could stain
And you entrap your pigment by dodging the rain

You bask in the Moon, as it's soft on your face
But it's your body, itself, that will chew through your veins
Exposing solutions that deem you a fluke
Naturally, it's inviting the truth
To what do I owe this imposition?

When you drift through your head
Do you picture your left as you try to forget a life that you had?
Do you intend to pretend as though you recall
What was said the first time we ever crossed paths?
To what do I owe this imposition, this test?