You

The mirror screams every time I look at it.
I am learning to appreciate the huskiness of its voice.
I wonder what pulls us apart,
when there is nothing but emptiness.
If there is nothing but emptiness,
what pulls us together?
I look at the distant star,
and am reminded of your eyes.
I am a ghost to you.
You are a ghost to me,
but every dusk resurrects you.
Where is that resting place of yours?
Does the moonlight lit its shore?