Like a Ghost

I saw you last night in a crooked, distorted building you were trying again for love within some new walls in an apartment arranged for two in a city designed by exhaustion you had her laughing again as she often used to early on I followed your movement like a ghost from room to room and watched as the two of you entered into a kitchen where you started to cook dinner and talk of a new future together I had not seen you for nearly twenty years my memory added no age to your face and your clothing had long since gone out of style Campbellford, California, Calgary and God knows where you had been chasing life forever nipping at the heels of your perceived fulfillment losing people all along the way I was getting lost in the thought of it all then the door slammed and she was gone too like always, like all the others in the shrinking kitchen you stood alone and puzzled your eyes dropped and searched the floor for answers I felt myself begin to care and turned away I slipped into an empty room and gazed out the window where street lamps poured their light through a steady snow that fell like television static and landed on highways twisting like mating snakes to create a hypnotizing mess with no ends I began to feel a hollow smile curl onto my lips then the door slammed and you were gone too I turned and said to no one at all thank you for my life and thank you for leaving when you did