Tonight I see you lying without you.
I feel the cold embalming of your hand
And leave, yet feel I must return again.
You push me there so faintly, I have to.
I hope you know I know that it is you
Not lying in a coffin, no, you stand
In silence as you pass from friend to friend.
I don’t know how I see you, but I do.
Now as I sit and write this bold sonnet,
Enamored by your iridescent soul,
I feel you with me, you are my sidekick.
Where we are going, we can’t dwell on it,
So let us simply go out for a stroll.
I swear, sometimes I love being psychic.