ghosts aren’t only
what has been
they’re also
what never happened
echo of songs
never sung
never listened to
I won’t speak to you again
I will still sing to you
songs white as whispers
same frequency as ghosts
to know light from my pages
reflected into your face
sunk into the sea glass of your eyes
to know light from your face
snowed blossom into the dark
of my words
beneath summer sun
share the shadow
of a brolly with you
within its soft circle
we’ll listen to the rain
in each other
light a candle
with me
all night
we’ll watch
the lowering
of the flag
of its flame
your heart
more scar than tissue now
you’re scarring the scars
share the snowfall
from a streetlight with you
shoulders dusted with shine
the ghost of fireflies
froth from the fractured minds
of the thistles
the burning breeze
flakes the fields
stories to temper steel to
when the story falls silent
the folds folded
asleep inside the blade
the seabed still remembers
sunlight upon its skin