SONG OF A GHOST

 If I cut the calender in cubes and blend it with my smile along with 100g sugar, will it remind you of our first winter? 

If I boil my tears with pieces of my pen and poems will it taste like the leaves of the fall? 

Dilute my blood with water and put three ice cubes in my skin, 

make me so numb and cold and then act as a bewitching butcher cutting me into three thousand pieces 

so that you can preserve it like 

A rasin flower in wall

Burn me and put my ashes in the terracotta urn, 

a blue flower painted in its lid 

And while you paint your new home mix it in its 

emerald erald green walls. 

We could never be sixteen and seventeen again so miss me when you listen to old man's piano. 

Now that we have christened love as pain

it doesn't matter what I think .

Now that there is no one to watch I don't need to act good. 

We will count the Sand castles but in different places with different clocks. 

You won't carry me with you 

Because men are not supposed to have handkerchiefs. 

While you swing between hope and despair 

I should let you know that

 whenever I see you 

I blink my eyes twice 

because ghosts have eyes too

And that there is still your nail tattoos in me 

Because ghosts have hearts too

You call it tragic, 

But it's not.

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