January Twenty-Sixth

I saw a ghost today,

An ethereal spirit

Of femininity,

Intoxicating confusion,

Dressed in yellow,

With rounded glasses.

In her presence

My heart leapt

Before choking

On its own headrush.

In the end,

I just gave

A half-hearted greeting.

But she continued

To drift on the current

Of the summer wind.

I turned around,

Went home.

Maybe there is something

Beautiful in that. I’m learning

To feel my emotions

And to let them go.

Closure doesn’t exist.

I’ve stopped

Holding on.