It is possible to love a ghost?
I recognize your human shape projected. I close my eyes and you are real — flesh and blood manifest.
But when I open them again, the image is gone, lost to the dark corners of my mind.
In dreams, in nightmares.
I fall in love with the colored light dancing on canvases — with the facsimile of a person I’ve created, wrestling against the light.
Are you real, or have I just imagined you?
And does it even matter?
When the heart breaks, what is real — and what is only a projection of the light?
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model credit: Julia Fae