In some tragic way, it feels that I may always want you
Eyes that have seen too far beyond
Fingers wrapped around your precious ego
Lips that spill words even Pathos envies
It's all a little sad.
I can't recall much
But the way each tower gleamed over me
Hundreds of rainy streets remained empty
Your body
Close to the bus window
It's intoxicating.
Whispering "I'm so glad to see this with you"
Only to have you pretend you didn't hear
I'm a specter reliving my memories
The more I revisit
The easier it is to grasp:
I was a specter living through the moments.