The Haunting

Rain wakes me; it strikes against curtained glass like the nails of something evil wanting to come inside.

I seek peace atop two pillows a kiss away from each other; your picture and a bottle of Jim Beam Black watch over me in the swoon of the night.

Soft chills shiver though my body seeking the safety and warmth of your body in memory.

It was a rainy night when we first made love.

It was a rainy night when we stopped.

It is this bed and rainy nights that will entangle, hold and haunt me forever.

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