Literature
Ghosts, Draft II
Here is another story, Darling,
About the long-lost lovers doomed from the start:
The man and his woman; her wrist, his waif; “Mine.”
But now we are not the strangers in a crowd
that feed pages in books,
or ships in the night
Stretched across the sea, never to meet again. No,
We are that old married couple sharing an apartment
on the top floor, too tired to take stairs.
Suitcases full with distant memories about to burst and
pepper the walls, the floorboards that creak under sad footsteps
with nowhere to go. No,
We are the neighbours who never speak,
hiding behind heavy doors and curtains.
Thin walls have no secrets. I can hea