Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Little Ghosts in Windows

Remnants of them collect,
dust shards on spider webs,
Little words, face crinkles, depthless iris planes.
What ghosts wrap their
mystic kisses in my fate?
I hate these little deaths,
regress into the lesser being,
feral child. Dagger eyes
alone are sharp
‘midst shreds of ruined grace.
I covered her face
with funeral flowers
that followed the sun.
The little ghosts tagged after.

1 comment:

Brian Miller said...

haunting...the last four lines are kinda like a twisted little skids has a jack n jill sing song to it...which makes it all the more haunting....from i hate these little deaths is my fav part and is quite effecting...