Haunt

The wind tastes like the moment –

Forget that – the wind leaves the flavor

Of hate and bitterness

On my tongue,

No amount of any drink will wash

It out.

No crescent of hope spilling

Its portents in the sky

Will ever change the rancid taste of forgotten love,

Wet newspaper promises,

Or the vice grip of your hand around a crimson stone

It is not that the word “waste” fails

To describe the pinprick stars of time,

The grains – whatever you please –

But it falls short of being anything

At all.

You vanished

And pop up to haunt my footsteps

Like a banshee in the ghosting mist

You’re screaming

I’m pretending not to hear

What’s new?

But that isn’t really you,

It’s the little memory in the back of my head

Gnawing at the chair leg supports

Like an untrained puppy

But then it’s a bear or worse

And I’m tumbling, drowning

In a fucking kiddy pool

Because I have no light to see,

No arms, no legs, nothing to float with.

I struggle to kick and scissor just not to sink.

All I have are lungs, slowly filling with water

And a crimson rock – diamond hard,

Oh

But you left me one thing.

I’ve got this impossible taste

That the rushing water won’t take with it.

Memories fade, but that taste,

That is something I will

Be hard pressed to forget.