Ghost Wife

This woman with thorned anger,
shorn hair, ex-Nun, once wife to Christ,
rose like god's tempest to bind you
into her circling winds.

The Virgin and she conferred and so you 
(lapsed Catholic that you were) agreed
that our marriage must indeed have been
a ghost stumble down heathen pathways.
Not real--so you erased me.
I became a footnote to your former life
and you took no talismans as reminders.

I wonder if your current wife knows
she's number three, not two, that a stranger
once stood point in her space.
The math becomes so complex.

I wonder if ever you search street corners
or stores, try to find me, wanting now to recall
the exact color of my hair, my height,
if the sight of a sail over water
ever gives you a pang.

A friend saw you five years ago.
He said you'd aged badly.
In my non-Catholic heathen heart
I was pleased.




Pris Campbell
©2008


Art: Pygmalian by Ben Arieh

Among my favorite photographic artists, visit more of his art HERE!




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