Ghosts Past Parted Lips
I watch
As the ghosts waft
Away from my parted lips,
The fire I hold now
In cracked
Fingertips;
Burning my renditions of humanity
Into the unknown permanence
Called eternity.
Which I summon with each
Ashen breath,
Stars of souls
Who know everlasting death.
My fingers like boney branches
Reaching up to the teeming sky
As stars scatter and wishes die,
With
People
Like ships in a bottle
Lost out at sea
I hear those same ships
Calling out for me.
This poem is about:
Me
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