I wish I could
be invisible to the world
sometimes.
To not have a name or a face
and yet to exist enough to
breathe in all of life.
To be present enough to
taste everything that can be
touched.
It must be a strange and beautiful
thing, to touch the world and
not be touched by it.
When I die,
I want to be a ghost.
YOU ARE READING
Doux
Poetrythe walls with blued body scents soft on the skin, the curtains drawn and a lover asleep close by. ...
