You’re always with me
But not by your design;
You don’t even know.
What’s it like to love a ghost?
I’ve memorized your phantom finger’s touch.

Siphoned from your subconscious
And carried
Then whispered
With the faintest taste of remembrance
When the breezes touch my skin:
"I still think about you..."

Shall I cling to this vapor of a promise?
Can winds lie?
Or are they simply chiming
With the voices in my head...

Because you see
It is not the distance.
Technology has provided a wrinkle in space.
What I need is a wrinkle in time,
To go back,
To take back,
And to ask you
All these questions
I have yet to ask myself:

Am I hopeless?
Am I mad?
Has everything you used to love
Slipped from my shattered grasp?
Do you remember?
Do you care?
Did you ever?

Often memory answers
The questions future asks:
I love a dream.
You are as far from me as reality.