Feeling his ghost stalking about the place
Perusing the pot plants and commenting
On the placement of furniture and ornaments
She liked the way he touched her breasts
Not grabbing and rough but sensual
As if he were handling tropical fruit
She still gets shivers just thinking about it
But where did they think they were going
Two crazy drunken people on the run
From pasts too vast and furious to surmount?
‘A relationship fueled by alcohol can never last’
And with that he was gone like a cyclone
Leaving a spray of debris in its aftermath
So she became practical and cleaned up
Made a cosy home as women do
Waiting tables and singing in pubs
Calling in favours from friends and family
To scrape together a life for her daughter Emily
But still the nights are hardest
When the fatigue hits and she feels life leaking away
Like some precious fluid she can’t contain
The touch of a man seeming like the only thing
That could staunch the flow
If only her heart would start again.
© shaun patrick green 2011
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