She always texts first
in the morning
making certain I wake up
if not with her beside me
The photo coming next
As if I might have forgotten her
Overnight,
Her image already
Tattooed in my brain,
The odd chat
Among relative strangers
She knows more about me
Than I ever will about her,
This loneliness
She pretends she doesn’t feel
Though I feel it in her
the intense isolation
on the far side,
self imposed to keep her safe
yet -- in the dark of night,
the ghosts come
filling her head
a scared rabbit in a
self-created rabbit
hole
where she hopes
nobody
can get at her,
at lease,
without her
invitation.
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