Ghosts

memory,

robust with new life,

harrows the heart

the way the tide

rushes in

silently and suddenly

you are drowning

in eternal recall

cleverly wrought myth

the stories

we tell ourselves

between your dream

and mine,

in the space

where breaths meet,

a gap

'the first time ever

I saw your face',

I thought,

but it no longer matters

what I thought

now

in the immutability

of remembered past

I gave, you gave,

we gave,

not enough

ghosts shudder

across the counterpane

of closed eyes,

their bodies a billowing

of washed linen

thoughts

you cannot

walk away from

between silence

and revelation

lifetimes,

cemeteries

of exhumed grief,

mined fields of regret

and love

waking brings the weight

of what we've lived

we weep for what

could not be saved