I stretch
And the ghost
stretches with me
I see her
in the mirror
But not
in the reflection
Sometimes her words
Are on my tongue
And my voice
Is not my own
And my fingers
Feel the things
I never
Want to feel
When its late
She whispers
like honey
And I wait
For the sting
Sometimes the memory
Is in my eye
And I cant un see it
Sometimes the memory
Is on my skin
Where the scar
Has faded
And I can�t remember
The things I want to
