Yet I still saw you
Standing on the stairs.
Tried to avert
My covert gaze
But you persisted there.
Tried to imagine
A thousand ways
But still my skin crawled,
The light from the door,
A moonlit blur,
A stain upon the wall.
I see you often
In the gloom
Staring back at me,
A look profound,
An angry frown,
But more often, sympathy.