Chasing Ghosts

Passions take shape

In the corner of my eye

Figuring you in passing motions

Imagining

Your feet hitting the pavement

Of a lovestruck landscape

I turn, sheepishly

Herded by the promise of your presence

And venture into my curiosity.

Once again

Chasing your resemblance

only to find blank spaces

Once home,

I roll up green pastures and exhale

then trim my roots and wonder

which one led me to you

See,

I flowered in

spring days

Wet with hennesey

umbrellas jeering in the tussel

of nature vs nurture.

The storm

watered potted plants left on dusty window sills

during rain

Tears blossoming behind bars

Of guarded gazes,

pricking fingers on the sharp edges of

discarded toys

temporary spring must pass

Cold realities form frozen lakes on the roof of my mouth

the white outside

Makes it necessary to keep my

stillness

Lest my tongue stick

To the lips of Greek statues

Or ropes

My seasons change but

some are longer than others

right now

my fingers are falling snow

Caressing the slope of your hunched back

carrying loads

like gunfire

In black churches,

wishing for a prayer that heals right