I am writing love poems
to the ghost once more.
The ones that wail in the space
where my heart once lived.
Where sadness now dwells
in deep oceans.
And longing lies drowned
in their depths.
Let the ink spill in blue words
like veins of blood onto the paper.

Once you collected all the stars
from the galaxy.
You pressed them
into my eager hands.

To guide you through
all the darkness of life you said.
How could I ever stop the gods
from taking you away?
The one who could collect stars.

When you left I folded my heart
into a love poem.
And slipped it quietly into your soul.
To take with you to
eternity I whispered.

I promised myself to stop
writing to the ghost.
But they are all the
comfort that remains.

So I write to them
one more time.
As the dying embers
of your stars slowly
fade in my hands
one by one.