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