An Adjacent Asylum

6.1.10

A ghost.
Each breath visible in the cold night air,
Blue fingers finding warmth in my pockets.
Why don't I have a smile on my face?
Because all heroes die and legends fade.
Because eventually the music stops.
Jesus had his cross, Lincoln a bullet.
When one door opens, another closes.
The taste of coffee lingers on my tongue
And a sharp one at that, if I had means.
Nevertheless, I knew what was coming
But I still couldn't bare to look away.
Predictable - like a broken record;
Yes, it spins, but oh! How I love the sound.
The buildings line across the horizon
Like the wooden planks on a picket fence,
Keeping enclosed what lies in the distance:
The sky, the moon, rain clouds, infinity.
But no stars! Not on a night like tonight.
Guess it didn't matter - my eyes were locked.
Watched him as he carried you up the stairs
To his apartment; he took off your dress.
It wasn't a ghost, just a memory.
Guess there's no such thing, so I will just sing,
"Que sera, sera; whatever will be,
Will be."