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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