There’s a ghost on my shoulder.
Sometimes I can look to my right and see it riding there.
Sometimes I look into the sky and see it floating there.
Sometimes it stands beside my date and watches with a warm smile.
Sometimes it invades my head mid-sentence with a memory.
Once in a while I meet someone who makes this spectre a memory.
This is how I judge who I should pursue.
If you’re so boring as to leave me daydreaming about a spectre past,
You aren’t for me.