Jeremy: "Ghost of a good thing"

I'm the answer to your questions, the braided rug

by the door and the star in the skylight. I'm the dust

on the backward edges of the ceiling fan /won't go away/

I'm the pop of the blue balloon when the needle slices

through the rubber. I'm the whirring of blades crashing

thrashing through oxygen and nitrogen soaked air.

I'm the match that just happened to be in the back

pocket of your jeans (you didn't realize until

you'd spent two hours /at least/ rubbing two spindly twigs

together /hopeless/ without a hint of a spark)

you found me just as frostbite set in