Untitled

She picks me flowers. from the cemetery. in the morning. when the sunlight. trickles. through the Cedars. And brings me. overflowing candy. that she stole. one night. from Little trick-or-treaters. direct opposites like feathers and fins. maybe that's what causes the effective attraction. Tenaciously fastened like opposite sides of powerful magnets. Doomed to be annexed into her inventory. Clandestine amore between human and spirit with sorrowful sadness. On A lunar eclipse We Begin the story. I was glowing in the Sable which struggled to envelop me. Ebony Tendrils attempting asphyxiation. Sewing her grains in my skin - the troubled penelope was welcomed into me without any invitation. We meet in places where no one will see us and talk of things we'd never think aloud. peaceful naked as the bones of Jesus we walk and sing and sleep In clouds. - ghost