Dear ghost,
As winter air surrounds me and you, you slightly question the line of my hands. You may wonder if I am lying to you. To the world that know only half of me. You sit down ever so reluctantly and wait so patiently. I nod and sway lightly to a song that does not sing my language.
I can only pretend. Lie if that's what you want to call it. I can love from afar. I lightly tap your shoulder but you only run away from me. How ominous. I must be terrifying. I must be ugly but when I look at the mirror, I smile at my beauty.
So I sway to this song and fascinate you. Or maybe confuse you.
Yours