Ghosts and Kisses

A ghost appeared last night

sleeping in my sheets where a mountain

of clean clothes slept before.

I leaned in to kiss her goodnight on the cheek

when she turned and suddenly

a gasp and slip of the tongue,

just like before on the night we slept

in the same bed, the same morning

I sang a love song to her

not knowing all the words,

not sure how sure she was

of my existence, or I of her’s.

It died

shortly after due to blood loss

and exhaustion, the excruciating

pains of chasing memories and ghosts

buried, burned, lost in the present

making history, locked

in the rise and fall of blue moons

and purple sunsets with clouds

sipping rays and those shadows

of dust collected on the touch

of her lips, the shape of her hand,

the sound of her voice, the warmth

and the long reach of her tongue on mine,

long ago remembered and forgotten,

returning then for just a night

when regret is dismissed

for this phantom embrace

and ghostly kiss.