to think there’s a reality
in which we never parted,
to think of our naivety
saying we’d keep in contact,

it hurts to think of what might be
if i’d only stopped to ask
if you’d care, years later, about me;
but enough dwelling on the past.

I saw your shadowed twin last night
Under the open moon
And as I walked I heard your voice
So hushed with an echoed tune
Your scent dragged along the wind
All things I’ve missed the most
Your gentlest touch on my sleeping skin
My dear, my love, my ghost

I shouldve known
to better leave the gaps
between my fingers just gaps.
To not fill the space between my lips
when it's slightly parted.
To not fill my nose with your scent.
To not fill my mind with thoughts of you.
To not fill the emptiness
with something in your form.
Because whole things,
complete pieces ,
only know how to break.

Consumed and confused
There is no line keeping me
From you, except you

we are nothing but ghosts
yet you've stained me
like red lipstick
on fresh white linen.

when the sun
kisses the sea orange,
my father comes home with sawdust
caked underneath his nails.
i remember how my mother
brushes them clean
until the water becomes yellowish,
like the sun.
That night, we will tuck ourselves in.
But i'll still be left at dusks.
wishing for that very same one,
where their worries would recede,
like the orange.
Where they will not have to think
about tomorrow
too much.