The memory of your touch wanders the hallways of my heart like an unforgiving ghost.
"Go away!" I cry, " I buried you. Your dead like all the others."
But passions buried not on hallowed ground come back to haunt the lover.

Promises become epitaths that mark the shallow graves
Of dear ones lost by carelessness, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Oh spirit of the one I lost go back and rest in peace.
Let me tend this mausoleum of forgotten wants and needs.