Ghosts of Love

There you were —
Unexpectedly —
Asking me for Love.
You stood at my door
And wanted to come
Into my life.
That was okay.
There were things
I gave you
That you assured me
Were love.
You carried gifts too,
Into my house,
And on each one
You had written Love
In bright colours.
You had even sprinkled
Glittering stars on them.
But when I opened the gifts
They looked to me
Like having been crafted
Out of years of lonely need.
Perhaps that’s what love is
For most of us —
A sort of dependence
On someone else for what we need,
That if unmet
Turns viciously into pain.
But it was the ghosts
Thrusting their faces
In front of yours
If I got near you,
That led me
To feel uncomfortable
In your presence.
They danced around us,
Parading ghostly memories,
Faces of past loves,
Intimations of failure,
Or even the glamorous attractions
Of good times,
Denying the value
Of the present,
Of you.

Tony Crisp

Copyright ©2004 Tony Crisp