she sits in the red of neon light,
passing eyes trace a body that isn’t there

fingertips reach,
but touch only air

she exists in whispers, in fleeting glances, between desire and illusion

black sheer curtains reveal the silhouette
of a ghost, a dream

the neon hums her name,
but she never answers

she is seen, but never held,
never desired, never real

a shadow in the glow,
gone before you blink