Ghost keys

Fingers tap a faded code,

letters and numbers like shadows,

a password living past its time.

The account’s gone—forgotten,

like a house burned to the ground—

but this key stays in the lock,

a stubborn relic held close.

Click-clack, the rhythm of memory,

unchanged even as everything else slips,

a stubborn knot tied in the dark,

a name whispered to a ghost.