You had long hair

When I saw you last.

That time

I called you a ghost.

You walked by

The window

Of a bar I’m at

With short hair.

And I thought

How inconsequential

To me

You were.

 

At the time,

The weight of your ghost

Consumed me.

I’d lay in bed

Haunted,

I was possessed

By your coldness,

And I’d

Ouija

With no answer.

Your haircut

Looks fine.