you blindfold me with words

and you cannot be a ghost because 
i hear the click of your lighter –
your puffs on a cigarette 

you exist 
and yet 
i am on read 

your cold fingers on my skin make me gasp
and then you are gone 

you appear to listen 
but your replies are faint – 
good listener, 
you and me both 

are we not listening, or just not understanding one another? 

when you choose:
i am realising 
i have a choice 

kate © 

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