There was a ghost writing

at your desk,using your old notebooks..

Seemed to be over seeing the production

of your biography and times.

I picked up your pyjamas and smelled

the bit under your arms

it was a potent reminder

of our first encounter.

I tiptoed away leaving the  ghost alone.

Wasn’t that what you always wanted?


About Katherine

I like art, poetry,history, literature,cooking,doing nothing to music.And conversation
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