your ghost last night walked into my house it was as i was falling asleep through the front door it was your ghost it was a swarm a huge and haunting lingering plume of cigarette smoke nicotine fingers i was lying in my bed like a plank under blankets for several minutes there was a little broken-off chip of me which could not seem to stop expecting to hear your voice until it finally fused with the rest of my heart and logic decreed in that way that it does sometimes that even you or the ghost of you
even you
could not keep your presence silent for so long
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