These days
I mostly dream in ghosts.
I do this so you haunt me.
I knew so many parts of you,
even those you didn't want me to.
   So young then, with such small hands.
   No pain on them yet remarked.
   How could it be those same small hands
   could guide my aimless dark?

These ways
I wander caused her to wonder
if I was hunted or I, the hunter.
But she's not afraid of sinking ships,
she fears the thought of going under.
   Her eyes were set to show me  
   all the lives we'd lived before.
   Her mind was set on love and lovers.  
   But my heart was full of war.

The shame
it seems, is while I dream
should be the only view, to
let me see the frames that
feature scenes of me and you.
   Shame, our bodies left our souls
   to grow apart and so alone then.
   But hearts, it happens, aren't so big
   that small hands cannot hold them.

   So until the time when we align, until
   a version of you and yours is mine, a life
   where we are is 'we're' and we are 'we';
   Hold my hands in graveyard dreams.

   -@NoMortalDreams-