A ceiling above us, and a floor below,
don’t touch, don’t touch,
watch the cracks
as they spread and flow,
all mine for the taking,
if I want it,
I know. Stop.
Stop, at the edges,
put your hands out now,
and knock me, tender, to the floorboard-ground,
roll me beneath you and without a sound,
speak the words, say them over again.
Listen, listen – can you hear
the rain, on the slates,
down the chimney shaft? Raise an eyebrow, make me
laugh, like the water
as it scurries through drains – watch the forever-ghost wax
and wane, like a moon in the window pane.
lay my head
on your shoulder,
so much time now;
past and older, so much tomorrow
and yesterday grown colder,
so much ‘sorry’ already…too much.
all is trust,
in your eyes as you smile and make plans;
and the forever-ghost sits down
cans of a barely contained future,
she bows her head, as a weary creature,
for she knows
the awful truth.
Those words are spoken again,
and I cannot answer - because it isn’t you.
And the forever-ghost fades away to nothing,
leaving behind her,
a deepening blue.