Your Eyes Were My Favorite Color

Talking to Your Ghost

I will never speak to you again,
but I have so much more to say to you.
Like
I threw a blanket over the top of the window curtains.
Light was still coming in at 10 pm.
And they renovated the outside paint and lighting of the apartments.
But you'll never be back to see it.
I try to make it dark
like it was when we would lay together after intimacy
and I would ask you questions
and you would talk endlessly.
I pretend you're here.
I tried talking to your ghost
but it's not the same.
I feel so embarrassed,
I stop after a few words.
I put my hands in my hair
and pretend it's you.
I sob on a level a passing neighbor could hear.
It's the only way I'm able to communicate (to you).