I am a ghost, sometimes.
I was always a ghost, sometimes.
Caught in a dirty mirror of
moonlight stained fantasy; a
ghost writhes under the flesh
of the night; of a nightmare.

But maybe I was never a
ghost; maybe you anchored
me to the sea floor with
a thousand barbs under my skin;
lost in a delirium of invisibility.

I feel something dead between
my breasts; a hallucination
you can see. Rodents eat me
from my ears out; blood
cascades over my shoulders.

You say I look pretty.


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