Ghosts admist the moonlight (A recollection)

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    Ghosts admist the moonlight (A recollection)

    Wondering of u, as my eyes caught a glimpse in the moonlight. My mind photographed the picture as I passed by & I exhaled.

    At home I wrote, typing everso intense of the description, locale, & time. Oh, to reminencse.

    U play, like a film never to stop reeling in my mind. To everwant to see u again. I attend at the usual parloure to see if u were there.

    I see u again, but as I go to u, u fade, as if u were a ghost. Maybe, just maybe that spot is special, a spot of love...lost that was to be found.

    U wondered every thursday night... the street, as if lost or looking for. No wonder I...I was intrigued, I smirked as if I had a new play toy...no, a new body to devour at my leisure.

    I stand at the other end just to see u...till u fade, till u are found or till he comes, maybe u will wonder no more forever lost like a dream...damn.

    Still, I will be mystified by u, as u stream across the pebble-cobble street with your beautiful hair in a french roll, your lavender dress, white gloves, white boots & glasses....waiting for him, but I know that he won't come.

    My mind photographed a picture, as my eyes caught a glimpse, I exhaled, turning to leave u amist in the moonlight as I fade.


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    In science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite.

    Franz Kafka (1883-1924) Czech writer.