Yours are the Words

Shadows dancing slow,
the sound of air between.
Taste of a memory:
an imaginary dream

The quiet crescendo
falling back in my mind.
The taste of a memory.
The ruins of a sign.

A play on words
waking up into mourning
tastes of a memory:
ghosts of a good thing.

Beside myself inside
something more than you.
A taste of a memory-
one i once knew

The quiet crescendo,
a sound of air between.
Tastes like a memory.
The ghost of a good thing.