i saw a phantom in the thunderstorm

there is a phantom in my head,

because i felt him in my heart.
yesterday he began ice skating
through the filing cabinets of my memories,
cracking open drawers that i thought i had locked.

but spring-loaded drawers can't stay cracked.
like a breech in a dam,
eventually the waters burst through,
dangerously rushing forth as a flood.

i don't think it's possible to dead bolt
a squall into submission.
so yesterday it rained again,
the phantom at my side.
i lifted my head and hands to the sky,
as i watched my skin,
apparently given a bath of oil;
the beaded drops rolled off my face.

the phantom stood, unaffected,
proving his nature
as the rain went right through him like the air.

a touch on the back
a hand on my waist
a whisper in my ear
a breath on my neck
a kiss on my eyelid
a smile on my lips
a warmth in my mouth

stop telling me you're the only one that could ever feel like home.