GHOST ECHOES
And here we are still
Touching, still embraced.
What is pleasure?
What is pain?
Are they the same to you
And me?
Dear Asha, what lengths
Do you drive to in order to
Meet me here in this cross-
Over place?
I’m short of breath just
Getting this far – and all
My chances are pinched
And held by your sour heart,
The heart I care too much for.
The devil is a master at
The stroke and you are she.
And hours later (maybe only
Minutes) I’m still tied to the
Chair of loving you.
Pink Litter. 