Your lovely stalker

When I die, I'd remain as a ghost.  

They wont cry or honor a toast.  

They wont hold me from roaming this land.  

No regrets and no reprimand.  

I would haunt you and follow around,  

While you're still walking this ground.  

I would pest you about everywhere.  

I would nest in the curls of your hair.  

I would watch and explore ages' trails  

Of your body and face, the details  

Of your life, of your future and past,  

And your present, as long as it lasts.  

I would enter your thoughts and your fears,  

I would sample your smiles and your tears.  

I would dance to your heart's rapid thumps,  

Lick your dreams and your lusts off your thumbs.  

Be your deepest misfortune and luck.  

Touch the cocks of your men when you fuck.  

Pat your pets,  

Nurse your kids, hug your wife,  

Live my ghosty realm through your life.  

If outside in the snowing November  

You would notice a rose,  

do remember:  

You're not crazy or lost,  

It's a gift from your ghost,  

And its way to be held and remembered.  

– – – – – – – – – –  

I won't cease on my haunting and leave,  

I'd withhold my eternal relief,  

Not until when you age and then die,  

When they raise you a toast for good bye,  

When you finally go with that last final blow.  

I'd be there to greet you hello.  

20. 03. 23