The She Who Wasn’t

I fell in love
with a ghost,
built from
plumes of shadow
and shimmer.

I embraced the
nonexistent,
so tightly that
the warmth she
imprinted on my
clothes has yet
to dissipate.

I gifted myself,
in whole and fully,
to someone who
was no one.
And that bargain
cannot be
untransacted.

My heart crumbles
that all I love
is but echo—
one that resounds
so clearly still
within me.

I would mute
the sound of her—
muffle this
vacant song—
If only
I knew how to
make nothing
out of nothing.

3 thoughts on “The She Who Wasn’t”

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