You glide through my mind
like a ghost, passing through
my walls
and rearranging my
mental furniture.
Orbs of light disturb the corners
of my thought
and my dreams seem
to run strangely
hot and cold,
but there's nothing
tangible to hold.
I don't run from this haunting
in my brain--no.
I like to be in whatever place
I find you.
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