Ghosted.

I carry you around like a ghost, and when
my heartbeat feels a little warmer
you are there in my empty breathless
I am wanting your shoulder

(to calm me down. . .)

Winter is our only promise
and when you're there, it's too far away
because you're coming back again
you always say. . .you always say
You fill this lag in my soul
but I'm only dreaming you alive
past your season's age
but I just can't let this die.

I carry you around, like a ghost
inside the pale of my "remember when,"
I know I let you go this time,
but you're there, and then you're there. . .

again.

W ~ M ~ E

©Denise Angela Celeste, 1997.