In Love with a Recording

I am in love with a ghost

Although she does not know it

Everytime she walks the courtyard

At midnight

My eyes are fixed to her

Her hands glide along the steel rails

Her bare, naked feet


Along the stone cobbles

Her pale blue eyes

Lost in fog

Searching for something, someone

Maybe me

But I can never bring myself to tell her

That I am here

So I let her


Play like an old VHS

And indulge myself

Author: Jack Bennett

Motorcyclist and Poet Riding and writing

One thought on “In Love with a Recording”

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