Damp, fuzzy hair, she catches your glare,

the temptress in the shower steam.

You can’t quite recall, 

but you give it your all,

to fall back into the bathroom dream.

You see her on TV, 

a phantom on the train. 

You go to move countries, 

yet see her on the plane. 

This is no haunting, this is placement

by the brain. It chips away, 

day by day, till you take the chisel 

from her, and intervene. 

We can’t go on like this, 

you staying here

on stowaway bay, clinging onto

memories once held dear. 

Build your makeshift raft and float away, 

to the dulled drop-off of the depths, 

of coral, of fish, of luminescent squish,

where nothing but the bubbles of your breath 

will rise to the surface.