Finally, you notice me
a ghostly wallflower upon the wall,
in a congregation of elegant women and lordly men.
Most people do not look,
even after I go to such great lengths to
catch their attention.
I move the chairs around,
look through their books and carefully replace them-
only they’re on the wrong shelves,
tip the cups over sideways so they roll
and flipping bowls upside down.
I set the clocks to display the wrong time.
Only enough for them to question
if someone is trying to reach out.
We phantoms do not like to show ourselves openly;
we only leave clues,
just enough to make people wonder
if someone is there,
if we truly exist.
But out of all of the lovely women here in red,
you choose the wallflower dressed in green.
The lights flash and we dance,
you offer your name assertively,
my name I only whisper.
I avert my eyes and twirl my hair
and you cannot take your eyes off of me.
I don’t mean to be aloof, I promise.
I am only too shy to meet your eyes.
I could be your apparition if you want.
I could haunt you if you like.
Do not worry, I am a friendly phantom,
even if I am a bit mischievous.
But you do not want that to be so.
You want me to reveal myself,
to manifest,
to speak.
The wallflower has blossomed,
having someone to observe it, to admire it.
I am a ghost no longer.