WALKWITHLUNE

Would anyone miss me if I were to disappear?
Or would I at least kiss their thoughts and memories,
Like a ghost I’m bound to be.
Would I be the person to pull their heartfelt strings, or tug on the wires of their brain?
I’d be washed up in time.
An old folklore or distant rhyme.

We can bond over what we should have said.
A recollection of heartfelt strings.
A disappearing voice, a withering dream.
Stand over where my heart will lie.
Come kiss my body,
A final goodbye.