My scent sticks to their skin, their hair, their gums,
And they peel me off their bodies like bubblegum.
I follow them around like some Victorian ghost
Looking for a pale victim or a willing host.
I count their blessings like the rarest of coins,
But I do not carry jealousy in my faint joints.
The whites of my eyes observe and consume.
They are onto you, love, do not leave your room.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 