You say, that we can be forever:
That you and I eternal, are.
You also say that you can banish
Ghosts with candles, salt, and more.
I tell you. Should think forever
Can be cut short, but for one hour,
That outlived hour shall haunt you such
That rites and prayers shall not restore you.
I’ll love you longest, and I’ll love you last:
The breath of this pledge shall carry over.
You speak of ghosts. I’ll warn you fairly.
Outlive me but by one fair hour;
If you outlast my final gasp
And in that breathing, love another,
Then that last breath shall be the very
Haunting to death of you.
I love a good ghost story for Christmas. The motif of a haunted, jealous love is a strong one. I think a poem about a haunting, clinging attachment has a certain place at this time of year. Call me morbid. Anyhow: this is dedicated, in the nicest possible way given the theme, to the man I love. Merry Scary Christmas, darling. I love you, and will continue to love you long after I have been uninvited from this world, whether I am welcome to do so or not.