I still taste the salt
from the sweat of our friction
your laughter echos in the cavern
where I buried my heart
the flame of your smile
fades with the days
and with it
its warmth
but lend me now
the wool of your words
and I’ll fashion a scarf
we know December looms

My habits are recognisable in
  the other me
  younger me
  still toothy me.
But they're not yet habits, they're just
  experiences
  or experiments
  expectations, perhaps.
Slowly passing one round finger
through a candle's flame -
a flicker, but no real heat.
Suddenly it isn't
  a first chord
  first love
  or first drink;
all those vampires we once invited,
they don't forget which thresholds
they can and cannot cross -
now they come and go
as they please.
Can't we?

deep-seated bone-chill is a cold reality
yet here i stand watching intently
as glacier-cold waters rush by a bend
in a thunderously steady march
navigating the rocky course
of my river with precision
and strict efficiency
always finding the
path of least
resistance

if yesterday
decides my tomorrow
i am nothing but a ghost