sometimes it is there
a hint, a gleam, a glare-
a pulse.

the silent echo of my thoughts
scream from my unparted lips.
whisper loudly that
I could, no, not possibly
care less.

sometimes, i find that you’re here
like a ghost, your phantom form will appear
and engulf.

a transparent wave falls
over my head and I am unable to swim.
tread water that is really air.
particles fly by my hands
and then suddenly i’m aware.

you’ve left a trace,
a vestige upon my mind.
a mark, in a place
somewhere in time.

imprint still fading,
i touch at the dust and
my hands feel *****
but leave every surface clean.