I believe in ghost—
In the silhouette that floats before the eyes of memories,
Vulnerable to wind’s whispers, and summer rain’s scent.

I believe in ghost—
The mirage that comes to life when I keep my distance
From the point of existence.

I believe in ghost,
Though my feet can no longer take me
To where these eyes wander.

At night, when the moon oversleeps,
I shut my eyes to the sight of darkness,
And yet I still see it.

I still see us.

© Gheeneil


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