To you

(who does not exist)

.

I wanted you here. I admit.

I wrote many songs to the invisible, switchable twist of

You, of impossible love-making,

Content in the present, staggered flirting, and

Haunted dreams of  its kiss. But

There is no plan to

Connect 2

to pass through desire

so cleanly.

It is a tedious affair. We both have ghosts.

 We get tired and lost and

We have allergies. You

cannot breathe arounds cats,  I

cannot breathe at all

There is an ocean and a continent

and several presidents between this.

You are among the spies, where

I swear, there is an itch

a knowledge, a spark

A hair, rarely felt.