Kissing you
is like pressing my mouth
to frost on a window,
the cold biting back,
the glass refusing warmth.
Your ghost lingers—
in mirrors,
in the corner of the room
where shadows bend unnaturally.
When I close my eyes,
your lips arrive,
not soft, not kind,
but hollow—
a reminder that love
can outlive flesh
and still starve the living.
About the Creator
Zakir Ullah
I am so glad that you are here.
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