The films in my head have all gone silent
Forgetting your voice and your touch
And with only your images I am reminded
And ever distorted, I can scarce see your face
A blur in the render whenever we embrace
But I can still see your skin in the flickering candlelight
Sometimes like cinnamon
Sometimes blue in the hue of the television’s delight
And I can hardly believe it’s been five years
I can hardly believe that you’re not here
That you’re all the way there
How the miles reflect your apathy…
But I still care
In my mind,
I see lines of moonlight on the floor
And I watch you cross them, one by one
With silent footsteps from my door
You’re like a ghost
The kind I’ve only seen fast asleep,
Or in waking dreams
You come and speak in a quiet tone
Of beautiful things I’ve never known...




