You are a ghost now

The library of my life

goes in three year segments;

you have a whole shelf

to yourself.

The settling dust brings the mights

and what ifs into the night,

but the days cause the fading

caused by a life continually changing.

My dear,

You are a ghost now.

Some of these books’ words are too faded

to read; they would need

a fence sitting historian to search text

find the sex,

find our love, find love’s death;

of the pains that harmed health.

The death I remember.

Will remember forever, but,

my dear,

You are a ghost now.

An unclear sight before me,

you stand in my minds eye.

It gets harder to see you now,

and easier to not yearn, ache, or cry.

I can see us dancing, you pulling faces,

romancing me, but the kissing

memories are cold, confused, missing.

My dear,

You are a ghost now.

The library of my life

goes in three year segments;

You earned a whole shelf

to yourself.

I will try my best to protect it,

not dissect it, or be selective,

but enjoy it for what it was:

my first love; first love lost.

My dear,

You are a ghost now.

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