Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2018
The ghost of your hand
held mine as I walked home tonight
I saw you smile on the street twice
but it was just streetlights
through car windows

the humid air tasted like your exhale
and every person I passed
must be using the same
detergent you used

the way home
was sad.
JAC
Written by
JAC
171
     everly, Tristan Brown and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems