I can’t hear your voice now. You’re too far away.
But if I sit quietly I can still see your face
like its burnt into my eyes, you’re the flash of a photograph.
Some ghost aghast at all those things I said.
I know I shouldn’t have. I know now
you’re perfect.
I can’t taste your skin anymore. Its covered
with someone else. But I can feel you still,
I can see you crying across the room.
Some ghost at least to keep me company,
a sad see-through figure in the back.
I can’t want anything more than you.
