The envious ghost

On the patio with a cup;
Some coffee in the rain;
The sweet smell of wet earth
drifting into her lungs, turning her on.

“I envy the petrichor.”

Washed are all her memories,
with the darkness in the sky
breathing out all her sadness;
Her heart, light as a feather in these winds.

“I envy the sky.”

Floating about,
an astral projection,
I can see the smile upon her face
as the rain trickles down from the awning and caresses her cheek on its way down.

“I envy the little droplet”

Shivering ever so slightly as she holds her cup.
The heat from the coffee comforting her while she stares into the abyss.
I can see her, for a floating ghost I am,
as the warmth from the cup fills her heart, holding her hands on this day of thunder.

“I envy the cup”

I may no longer be with her,
no longer by her side,
but in the rains, where I was happiest,
she knows its me who caresses her cheek and keeps her warm.

Far away now, a ghost of her past
“I envy the ghost I was in life”

By: Viraj Belgaonkar

5 thoughts on “The envious ghost

Pen it... or aaa type it. u know what i mean.

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