Mornings bring back your ghosts.
I don’t know what to do with them
just as much I don’t know
what to do with myself.
I ask them to stand guard
at the door of my mind and heart.
So that the memories
of your smiles,
your stares, your touch,
and everything else pretty much,
don’t gatecrash anymore.
Querencia: a place from which one’s strength is drawn