Save All The Unopened Birthday Cards For The Worst Day Of Your Life Poem by Patti Masterman

Your skin shines in daylight and scatters the moonlight,
Your face it flashes, your eyes they float.
Over and over, in dry land marshes
Your hair's a beacon, your soul's a boat.

Like trinkets, like treasure
We keep the measure, of things we'd gather,
Things we'd store, for hungry days later,
For sad days behind us; when they'd never mind us,
These moments we'd pour.

Whose face in the mirror, whether fuzzy or clearer;
Would I be more dear, if I were a ghost?
I'd haunt you in passing, my form everlasting
And give phantom kisses when you needed them most.