I held hands with your ghost today.
Though, you’re not dead.
Yet I felt you here, next to me
Like you always were
On this memory-stained bed.
On your back, arm behind your head
Other hand laced loosely into mine.
I felt you softly lift our hand-knot
And felt the whispered kiss
on each of my knuckles
Like you used to. Every time.
It was as real as if you were here
But you aren't
And haven’t been
For over a year
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