I love writing about silhouettes

Her silhouette swam out in front of her, danced and detached itself from her, it circled like leaves do over dead souls, swimming up and down, arms lacing out as her hands flicked against the wind. The girl without her shadowed figured quivered feeling almost boneless. She called out to it but without it she was nothing but a untuned guitar and a guitar without its body. Just a neck with strings. Her silhouette flew back into the girl and boys eyes bulged as her body took place. She was just a silhouette to them, a silhouette that sometimes left them boneless.