It must have been last June that I walked up those stairs. all by myself. in the dark.
I was fiddling with the ghost of you hanging on my back.
him telling me I shouldn’t be there.
him comforting me with your absence.
my hand slid up the railing as each step grew me closer and closer to the memories I had locked. of you sitting on that couch looking at me with your affection,
fingers pressed against those piano keys as you sang out your love for me.
eyes fastened on each other as our kisses turned to fairydust, covering the whole world in happy.
those were the moments our hands lay interlaced, my hair draping over you, claiming you as mine.
your arms were my godfather.
your passion my fuse.
the memories knocked me on my feet as your ghost sat between my knees.
he looked at me
with a twisted face, contorted in the moonlight with a sadness on his jowls.
he flipped his smile upside down, aware then of my sorrow, and laid his head on my skin.
he kept staring into my eyes, speaking to me in the shadows..
I was unafraid of his silence.
I was comforted by his calm.
At the top of the staircase, when I finally made it up,
I lifted my head to peer through the window that seemed to be baked into your door.
I tempted a glance in the darkness
but there was no trace of you.
nor any remnants of your ties.
you had taken your things, of this I had known, and moved away.
so far far away.
my throat clenched in longing.
my fingers cringed with gloom.
I was transfixed in my reminiscence
as I engaged in a “conversation” with “you.”
photo by: elgatoazul…