Spectre

It was by the bed that I first saw him- raw and lucid- stripped down to the strings. I would've sworn the melody was for me though the notes stung with such force and pain- when I tried to sing out, I swallowed my tongue. he would dance rings around me, like blood running through the veins of a fiddle- on the floor and in the air like a gentle locomotive. just like me to be mortal and impatient- try to lasso a soul who is meant to embody as many girls as it takes to fuel his iron voice. in the passing days, I'll remember how silly to take a trip with the dead and how I once fell in love with a ghost and his guitar.