Swiftly, I move.
Gliding and weaving through crowds.
Out of the corners of eyes, I am seen.
A ghostly figure from the background of a vague memory.
I am unknown
unseen
unnoticed.
I am an accessory
with emphasis on the "sorry"
I am the dust on your TV screen.
I am an extra in life's devine tragedy.
I am the background music in elevators and grocery stores.
I am the one who coughs in quite exam rooms.
I do not live or love or laugh.
I am only noticed when I am gone.
I am everyone's little ghost.
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