dematerialise
walk in the mist or is it fog?
what if i could fade into it?
dissolve on a cold morning
turn to vapour and mixed up
in with water desperate to ice
fracture and bind with swirling
particles from exhausts and
the waste centre down the road
blow away in the afternoon
when the wind comes and the
suns faint heat reveals the distant
streets beneath me, as I float away
Mist over the lake in the early morning;
your ghost is in the dew drops.
I can see your affect clearly,
but when I reach out,
you’re not real;
you evaporate on my fingertips.
And every morning it’s the same scene;
running along the shore with a fishing net,
trying to catch your phantom.
What can I say, I have a thing for water adjacent metaphors lol