she comes to me in my dreams
even when I don't
want her to
A wraith that haunts the darker hours
lingering later in a
wisp
that resists the
inspiration of day
she is a spirit I call up after dark
even when it is not what I want
the last gasp of night time visits
I still revisit if not always in dream
then in memory of
dream
the clinging thread I can't shed
as frail as cloud yet
never so dense
I see through see her
dripped in paleness
I feel long after I
wake
she comes the moment
my eyes close
and remains just as
she has all those years ago
when I welcomed her
visits
The haunting inside
my head
in my head the memory of what was and was not
stirred up in dream
or not dream
I feel stings with
both pleasure and pain
she comes to me in my
dreams
and I pretend I do not want her to
when I do
I do
yes I do
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