Ghost

If I were a ghost,

I’d haunt your conscience.

 I’d be a mirror to fathom

 your improprieties.  I’d be your karma,

 I’d wear your clothes.  I’d emit a hue

 of putrid green.  I’d have no feet and float

 instead of walk into your room.  I’d hover

 creepily close to your head and sit erect with eager need

 on the edge of your bed.  Wantonly,

 I’d watch you sleep.  I’d reach

 with empty sleeve to touch your neck.  

 I’d smell your breath and incite gooseflesh

 down your back.  I’d make you sweat.  I’d make you jerk

 and scream if I were a ghost. 

 I’d be your worst dream.