Ghosts

It was the punctuation of your heart
That set you apart
From the others.
The brackets;
Open, not closed,
That separated us from everybody else.
I hid inside you.

Your name was branded on me,
A ghost tattoo decorating my skin.
You dangled the bait;
I bit.
Your scent a whisper on the lips of loss.
And then, and then.
You flee.