Ghost.

How do you undo a headfuck?

I don't know, maybe

You walk down a hundred memory lanes

Ducking into darkened bars

Designed by vampires

And sit and drink and think

How did the underworld come to know of this?

How does every venue I enter

Immediately represent my state of mind?

It is as if this city is reading me

Not just my wants and desires

But those things I want to shut down and hide.

What gives such a diaspora of lives

Such cunning and such insight?

I tell you, this place has a mind of its own.

I could stand here, dick in hand,

Shouting her name to cold night air

And it would echo back to me, then and there.

All because I saw her, she who was gone,

In a dimly lit room, and she smiled,

Like we were total strangers...

How do you undo that?

What the heart felt?

What we shared?

Was I ever loved by her?

Was I ever there?

© shaun patrick green 2017