Madame Blaine isn't happy.

Every night his apparitions appear
and they're getting darer by the day
(sorry, by the night).

Her fault she didn't tell him to go
the first few days on the southern window
rather she felt bad as he stood out there
thought it better to offer him chair.

His hesitation stoked her kindness
not much she would lose if sat face to face
recapitulating life they were together
barring the first few spent talking the weather.

Once in the room he gave her his ears
(or so it seemed)
as she talked of loneliness with hint of tears
blinking and nodding an occasional sigh
but not once offering a courtesy of reply.

He would sit unobtrusive in the gentlest manner
till his proposal last night dropped the sky on her
(sorry, the ceiling)
the first words he spoke shattered her peace

May I Diane, offer you a kiss?

She fumbled to decide an aye or a nay
silence was all her voice could say
the apparition rose to grab the moment
reading in her muteness a loud consent.

Since then she is wondering if she can boast
of having been kissed by one now a ghost
or hide within her as an indelible shame
an indulgence that could earn her bad name.