it’s weird. she’s a ghost to me

in my memory

not that she’s haunting it

necessarily

 

but i reach out to touch her

with my thoughts

and they go through her

like she’s incorporeal 

 

she’s faded, which is both

good and sad 

 

the month we broke up

seems like so long ago

 

like i’ve died and been

reincarnated several

times since then

 

lifetimes of granular details

slowly reset my daily  

experiences

 

morphing painful longing

into pangs of wistful 

reminiscence