When the wind blows,

It curls as it slips past me,

Turning back to caress my cheek,

Tease the curve at the base of my neck,

in the hollow of my collar,

Breathe upon my shoulder,

With a touch so like yours

I hesitate to breathe

And close my eyes.
 

I feel you.

I feel the warmth of your breath,

The brush of your mouth,

the stroke of your fingertips

lingering it’s seductive fire on my skin,

piercing

into my soul.

The tempest

And the fire within

Are kindled once again

As I feel you there,

Carried

In the ghostly caress of the wind.
 

I dare not touch the spot

Lest I chase the ghosts away,

But rather let it linger

In ghostly delight

Until the moment fades away,

and I beg the ghosts come back again

And resume their ghostly play.

Inside I sigh,

To find you not there,

And wish with all my life,