I thought you were a ghost
when I first saw you hovering there,
ethereal and vaporous.
...
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Your absence haunts me. Indeed. Seeing absence and hearing silence. poetry is not a language; it is a meta-language. A very fine work.
This is an excellent poem! I have seen plenty of those girls. After seeing them disappear, all you do is dream. Very well done, Sonny! A ten.
those moments when they happen stay watering the thirsty soul for years while decades flash by in a blur a wonderful poem
There was the disconnect in the poem, and the last lines summed it all up. Loved your style! Preets