Ghosts have been
Popping their heads out
Of the strangest corners lately
And so predictably

Going to bed mad
Is my subconscious' equivalent
Of a Chopin novella

So much scandal

And not an ounce of guilt or regret.

It was vivid and actual
this wake-sleep,

just like it used to be.

That sucking, gaping vacuum-
that feeling in my chest,
the desperation and longing-
that hating the leaving, but still
needing to be left

just for that feeling.

The reuniting and oh
the scandal.

It's the sideshow in me
that it speaks to.
If you give me twenty minutes
I could hook you for life.

My little fish
on the line, but with
much more power than
you will ever know.

It's like muscle memory
only with weather

It comes around when the seasons change
but mostly in autumn

or on holidays
or during football season

I'm a grown woman now
things should wear off
be different

I imagine what it would be like
to see you again
we'd exchange pleasantries
and pretend we didn't want to say
the things that needed to be said
but just for a while

then we'd say them

And I'd cry and scream at you
for not being the man
I knew you could have been

And you'd curse at me
for not accepting you for who you were
and we'd dance around the
loss
es.

Nothing was ever good
I don't know how it's possible
that one can miss
an idea, a wish,
something that never was
for so long

It sickens me.

you wore that shirt you always wear
you know the one
with the pearl snaps and
the sleeves you roll up
and push up over and over again
unconsciously in the middle of a story

I don't know if your hair was
up or down
it didn't matter

you caught me off guard
when you put both arms around
me
and pulled me close
cheek to ear
breath hot on my skin
(my heart leapt)
you whispered

you're the best friend I've ever had

I awoke
disappointed