THE HOPE OF NOT BEING SOME KIND OF GHOST

HOW COME YOU’RE STILL THERE

BUMPING INTO OUR OLD THINGS?

TILES

BEER

CHOCOLATE

COVERS

(whenever I had to make you a shopping list, I secretly tried to make all words start

with the same letter

coke

cream

cherry

caring)

AND YOU’RE TRYING NOT TO BE NOISY
(CLANKITY CLANK)
BUT I CAN FOREVER HEAR YOU
RELENTLESSLY PLAYING MY BROKEN GUITAR
EVER SO GENTLY
LIKE I COULD NEVER SING
EVEN THROUGH MY SCREAMING FITS
I CAN FOREVER HEAR YOU
YOUR BONY SHOULDERS
THEY FORMED A POOL OF SOAP AND WATER
ONE KISSED, THEN THE OTHER
ONE LEFT, THEN THE OTHER
I had to repeat to myself therearenoghoststherearenoghosts
Ghosts.have.no.shoulders.no.shoulders.no.shiny.eyes.no.pitch.black.perfect.solidness
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