I'd say I passed
right through you.

Could you feel (if it killed you)
heat from burning bridges.

Ghosts reached
out of pity giving matter
to tie me to this slowing stone
before I floated by.

I'd say I passed
right through you.

I'd be fooled into thinking you could feel:
I could have sworn I saw
you
blink

And I'd rather be on fire
disintegrate within desire
than circle such a great, unknowing  

drain.