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Im Friedhof

Dietlikon, Switzerland

In your black coat I walk into June heat.
You take a dark bird's shape and fly away.
I see your ghost, but it does not see me.

The recently bereaved are hard to please.
I didn't make your bed or your mistakes.
In your black coat I walk into June heat.

A phantom bone that haunts its amputee,
of all my specters, you are most awake.
I see your ghost, but it does not see me.

I pilfer through these memories like a thief.
But maybe all's not lost. Some's just misplaced.
In your black coat I walk into June heat

And I keen once more for your mortal hands beneath
What gravid fabrics other fingers braid.
I see your ghost, but it does not see me.

So I sail, half-masted, through the ghastly sea
Of these wasted, assailing lovers, loss and fate.
In your black coat I walked into June heat.
I did not leave your ghost. But it left me.