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“Ghost” by Merrijane Rice

On black nights fat with dreams, I wake in lucid spaces, listen to the house crack and settle while midnight traffic moans outside like vagrant wraiths rushing from past to future.

I used to walk with you wrapped in my arms, wailing bundle of promises. Now I creak past your door as you sleep wrapped in solitary visions.

I was your sun, now a distant star washed faint by city lights. I was rumbling thunder, now a murmur drowned by clamorous crowds.

When sky grays toward morning, you will resurrect, arise. I will fade into the photographs, insubstantial as an afterthought.

But in quiet interludes, let me haunt the corners of your mind, linger behind consciousness like the perfect words hanging just beyond the tip of your tongue.

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