Ghost II

When the soft hand of spring
Caresses the fragrant earth
With delicate drops of west coast rain
That drip from the tips of my lashes
I will come to you in the night
Draped in gossamer white
For I am nothing
But a ghost who haunts these docks
Translucent skin and raven locks
With fingers that ache to reach
Through soft gray fog
And time and space
Into the place
Where I lost my life
Burned at the stake
By the crimson fire
Of the tortured desire
Flaming in your eyes.