I am Ghost


                                                        I am ghost
plucking flesh back from your tears
                            that run to the fathoms
that I despair with touching
that I dispute their flowing
                                                        I am ghost
putting flesh to my bones
trees drawing out my realness
my ethereal died as I left the town
where I was practicing invisible
undead running things
where not we go to battle
those wars where everytime
 is no time, less time, nor effortless
                                         every mansland
             where noman may haveland
I am ghost                      but not bones
I am leaf                          but not tree
Let me be threaded through      the eye of the needle


8 thoughts on “I am Ghost”

    1. Aye, but I used to see it everyday all those people going to work on autopilot with no purpose than to get to work

  1. I often think of ghosts, I understand about how influence of others can reach us in ways that are translucent and dreamy, even if we do not know of them, or if they are beyond the grave. The subtle undertones, the things we do not say, can stay within our day dreams with a clear identity

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