The hauntings have returned,
borne on a frigid wind,
nightly visits urged,
distillment of what’s been,
Ebenezer screwed,
by memory and gin,
recalling presently,
the present of our sins,
all tressed up in a bow,
my hopes infused therein,
waking nights recalled,
why did we let it end?
long before the scars,
consumed our fragile light,
when one became a dozen,
and a dime our valued flight,
long before dishonesty,
and lies consumed young dreams,
when I was sun and noontide,
dancing with your lunar beams,
now a cache of memory,
and accolades proxy,
for a maiden whom still haunts,
and nightmares of what could be,
and in the prison of the now,
are nightly trances thus?
a beacon from your heart to mine,
or worshipping the dust,
i fear to know and fearing,
stifles study of this type,
but in the slumber hours i wonder
does your heart alight?
Somewhere in the southern deserts
I’m calling your name,
answered only by coyote's
...adagio refrain.