Unfortunately, the rain will continue
on for the next week or so.
Intermittent thunderstorms
all over the place.
Your dress drying at the foot of the bed,
your skin softer than the rain outside
next to me.

We're looking at the mirrors
and calling ourselves the ghosts
of our pasts.

We can take these lies
and make it our own story.

I'm a ghost of your love
and how scared are you right now
that I can touch you
and you can still
feel it?

Looking into mirrors
for you.

I touch you
And you disappear

I lust after you like a sun in winter:
like a boon.

I picked up roses from my garden today
and the thorns
pricked me.

It's like screaming without a voice.
*** without a body to begin with.
Love without actuality.