Are you waiting for me?
My ghost;
secret, sinful lover
(& love,
dare I whisper?)
Can I separate the writer
from the man, now
that I know you?
You told me if I stopped,
you would haunt me;
jealous for my love or my words?
Are they the same?
The contractions of my soluble heart;
a spectral spectacle,
feeling the world
through your ghostly fingers.
Profound moment of clarity;
your spirit descends over me.
I want to be
your lost memory,
your magnanimity,
your home.
The place
your ghost
finds solid space,
your resting place
& I will wait