Ghosts
We search for spirits in the corners of reflections
We fear the dark room where somebody died
We think ghosts are invisible, untouchable,
they can appear, disappear as they like
Ghosts are actually different
Very physical, through our bodies
they equate the living and the dead
Through our bodies over goosebumps,
in cuneiform letters written long ago
When our skin for a moment breathes in
and the hairs into the air imprint
Ghosts cannot appear when they wish
They depend on the breaths of the living,
on the language of here and now