Suspended ghosts

I still remember the glint of your eyes, the vibration of your pale irises, the pinch of your cheeks as your transfiction deepens, god I remember it all. What you were staring at is lost to me, and the absence of such an essential detail carves the hollow caves of my heart even deeper. Your mouth is curved, poised to speak but frozen in the grasp of your captivation. What you meant to say is suspended on your tiny lips, like a bird furled in its cage, the door open but caught on its jutting wing, so close to being liberated yet restrained by itself. Suddenly a noise catches your attention, your face is wrenched from my gaze, your delicate body turns and suddenly you’ve vanished. I’m fastened to the ground, the hands of reality curling around my shoes, anchoring me to a dimension as inescapable as the torment of consciousness. Like celestial angels our animations chase one another, mine twisting around the tail of your ascension, yet your fleeting locomotion increments in intervals unable to be quantified. And suddenly you’re gone, leaving me corkscrewing to the ground in a hopeless plunge engendered by the unexpected loss of wings, wings gifted to me by your presence and lost by your absence