Lover Lost

Lover Lost

Your kiss is a ghost, slowly fading,
it haunts my drying lips.
Your skin’s a moistened memory waiting
on my fingertips.

You’ve been gone so long
your commanding voice
has become a quiet buzz,
it feels so wrong
to make the choice
to forget the way it was.

I spread myself like an open sail,
to catch the wind
you left behind.
I try to see your face and fail;
I know I’ve sinned,
don’t change my mind.

I feel your specter softly, swiftly
brush between my legs.
I come quickly, far too quickly
still; my unheld body begs.

Sean Patrick


Sean Patrick is a scientist and sonnet aficionado. Their poetry has previously appeared in Grand Little Things and UniVerses. They reside in Massachusetts with their spouse, two dogs, and a mischievous cat.