Ghost

By Katherine Meikle

No one can see that he’s already gone.

No hunger, no scent.

No hands around your waist.

No whispers in your ear.

You try and press against him,

your tender body crying out;

Don’t waste these young years…

Untouched, unwanted.

Cold meat, rotten liver.

And every day it’s

No, not now, not just yet,

No in his eyes,

scattered away from yours,

No in his condescending pats on your

shivering shoulder,

as if to say

There, there. You’re cute…

And every approach ends up in reproach,

and every blunt kiss feels like a death.

No interest, no compassion.

Loyalty to a man that’s gone.

Hope that tomorrow he will turn around

and love you again.

That love that’s urgent,

undeniable.

That love that ravages your nights and dreams 

and wakes you in the morning with a smile.

How long can love be postponed 

until it cannot find its way back again?

Until he doesn’t even notice

you’re gone.

By Katherine Meikle