The ghost of pleasant pasts
She lives in old books and rainy mornings
She always enters softly, unannounced
Most often through my nostrils
But sometimes other orifices
To steer the ship of my mind
Returning me to moments I have lived through at least once
When I arrive, I always find a treasure trove
Of old toys, favorite songs and discontinued snacks
I’m always sure to greet the old spirits
The ones that don’t haunt me anymore
I make sure to never linger too long in those places
That does more harm than good
Though before I leave, I pause
To lie down beside the substance of myself
It brushes my cheek and chuckles lightly
Delighting at everything I’ve become
OneRareCreature 