Don’t speak,
Close your eyes,
Remember,
At least try…
Ghost fingers running
Down the nap of your neck.
Did it tickle you
Or did it make the whole thing go to wreck?
Ships sail,
Not knowing where they’re going
The sea is always uncertain
And I’m just waiting to be falling,
Again…
Cyranny's Cove 
“Ghost fingers down the nape of my neck”! Great imagery that gives me chills to think about. I can almost feel them now.
Good work, I love the poem!
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Beautiful poem cyranny! ❤
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