mimesis klarity Why. It hurts to hear those words. It was much easier, sometimes to just forget about the weak connection, that I made, up in my head. So he is untouched. Doesn't matter anymore. All I had with him was untouched. But being me, I couldn't touch. I wanted to believe the ghost. I wanted that ghost on my shoulder to touch by looking me in the face. I wanted the ghost to sit from afar and admire. And I wanted to say that the ghost was mine. That would be gorgeous. And I wanted to feel talented and pretty and strong. I latched to that ghost on my shoulder. And opened my eyes for a second. And I saw him watching me. I somehow blended the ghost's likeness with his. Wrong. The ghost doesn't fit his face, even though I called his name when it appeared. The ghost is not there now. It's just a bright hot morning with the sound of people getting on with their day. The ghost is not mine. He is not the ghost. Mistaken again. Why. 000818 what's it to you? who go blather from