Going With Ghosts

Ghoulish women crowd dark corners.

Light glistens on my breath.

There is an evil menagerie beyond the gate.

I am dancing motionless.

There are many cathedrals waiting

to be unearthed in my garden.


I want to remember exhaustion


Monday mornings,


I hate Complacency

and the way he makes everything pale

and organized.


I’m packed and ready

to follow the ghosts and learn

what they know,

but I dread the low opacity

the cold

being unchallenged

and unchanging

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