The Kiss The Ghost The Giver
J
James McLain
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Exhaling she said;
I was aquiver at the thought
of each kiss.
Like the ghost at the foot
of the stairs.
Walking up
to the top of the world.
Neighbor's gossip,
leaving their curtains open
at night,
daring me to look in at all
I won't feel
at all I can't see
back in time when
it was alright to show how
it felt to be kissed
they never talked about me.
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