Confirmation Bias

I wanted to confirm the existence
of a man, who would love me enough
to brush his eyelashes against my face,
like you would a child.
I consulted rooms filled with experts;
sound engineers, folklorists, ghost hunters.
No one could definitively say
whether this was even possible.

But the shadow found his way
in front of my face. He lurked
in the background of every frame.
Close enough to parade around
to anyone who would listen,
but not close enough to touch.