In a crowd of familiars
I pass through

of proust effect lingers
and someone greets me.

I see you at the dead of night
You of I thought long gone.

It just gives back the stare.

As its right hand lifts
with auras cast in awe,
energy flows through my spine,
I helplessly mirror what it did -

It points itself,

Then at me.


Spirits spell a curse or divine,
You of I thought killed,

Vanished into lucid flow of energy.

Dust permeates
and whispers my ear,

I never leave.