mi fantasma

unlock the gate and step on the stones
one by one
until i reach the porch
where a ghost still stands smoking
in his favorite red sweater
that i keep hidden in my closet
wrapped neatly in a black trash bag
to preserve the smell
of a boy with unreal eyes and a cheshire smile
the one that weaves the spell
i thought i knew so well
but he somehow changed the potion
open a white door
to a room with furniture rearranged
as though to trick me into believing
it never really happened at all
but the sudden recall
of flesh and breath and hair and eyes
tells me that memories are right
and a boy and girl
found what they wanted in this room
if only for a few days
that ended too soon