If I blink twice,
It will go away,
As if it never existed,
The images pressed on my retina
As if I have stared too long into the sun
And get the after image of what it was
Who she is,
And what I hoped she might be
Only…
It ceased being real,
Even when I prayed it might be,
History does not repeat itself,
The self-deception does,
The fatal attraction
From gazing too long at the moon
Until all else vanished,
She a ghost to me these days,
As remote as a Goddess,
Her shape recreated in moon light
And passing clouds
None of which are real.
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