She arrives in the middle of the night forgetting her name,
Forgetting my name—from a flight of a destination unheard, unknown.
Her diamond eyes turn to crinkled slits at the drop of a dime.
The air she breathes when she speaks is that of red wine.
She comes and goes like a splendid idea before I think of writing it down.
Her sweaty palms and icy fingers trigger a burst of insatiable laughter.
Then tears tug at the corner of my eyes.
Her valley girl accent masks her trailer park roots.
Don’t come looking for me. I’m merely the ghost inside your head,
Clashing with a heart on your sleeve.
(© 2020 AC)