woah i'm back. was out fightin reality. missed these.
Ghosting
With two Suns come two shadows.
I will have more than one ghost.
Chalk in hand, reaching for the concrete,
my outline shifts, these bits
are ghosts too.
Moments to most people. Remembered by who?
I write history, none of it fact.
Occasionally truthful, in abstract,
reaching for the concrete,
my chalk, police tape line do not cross.
Can't dip in the Styx before I jump off.
I'd need to be pushed.
I like the view from the cliff.
Imagining a portrait of me standing like this.
Hand on my hip, brush in the other hand in the air.
Realisation: can't outline the strands of my hair.
Memory is life after death,
passing to the other side
of the objective subject divide.
Record what's possible, distribute most.
By the time I'm fully transparent, I'll be a ghost.