The things I wrote to you and about you

Aren't mine anymore

They relocated to a neighborhood

Where all the things we wish were true
Walk the streets with all the things we're glad are not

Ghosts

thoughts you can't quite remember, stuck
almost on the tip of your tongue

When he had tried to brush her aside ....

She clung to him like that bit of snot 

you sometimes catch on your hand 

when you touch the end of your nose.

It usually manages to stay there 

until you brush it against 

some other surface.  

"made of a unique self healing composite material"

I should want you

To heal, smooth

Like a reusable self-healing cutting board


But

I want to leave a mark


When I smell your laundry detergent

Or taste your favorite beer

I think of parallel universes

Star Struck

Each and every time
No longer functioning
At a fundamental level

My head full of cotton
My skin goose pimpled
My ears couldn't hear

So full was every breath
With astonishment