CAN’T SHAKE THE GHOST
I’m still sleeping on
my side of an empty but crowded bed. You’re not here…
but you’re
everywhere. Awake is dreaming and dreaming is awake. It makes no difference. I
can see you in either place.
I can’t shake the
ghost.
You’re gone but your
sweet scent lingers. You’re in the air, on my skin,
on the freshly washed
linens. You’re gone but I still feel you. The memories are finger tips.
I can’t shake the
ghost.
The creak in the
hardwood floor is your footstep. The wind still carries your whispers.
The sound of the
breeze is the sound of your breath. And a strangers’ laugh is always your
laugh.
I can’t shake the
ghost.
(June 17, 2003 –
12:39am; free write)
© 2000 What I Meant Was