You are still
mist in the mornings.
Dreamtime, still haunting.
Unforgettable ghost, my heart's healed wound
and in the half light
you stand by the door in my bedroom
a winking shadow, gone then,
dissolved and lost to the air.
My breath catches like a skipping
CD
and I know you're not there—
the curtain ripples and I shiver
you are still here, always,
stalking my thoughts, feeding my fear.