Speak Poem by Adeline Morris

Spirits exist.
I believe in that paranormal phenomenon,
that chilling presence,
bringing speckles of excitation
to my pale flesh.

You live on through the sounds,
moaning phantoms in my ears.
Your inhabitance has expired
but your dwelling is far from over.

You haven't planned a repertoire
of hauntings over fellow companions.
No, you're only here to guide,
to warn, and appreciate.

Curled up under cotton,
I can feel you with me.
My refuge turns cold and silent.
I whisper your name to no response.

In my dreams, only minutes later,
you appear before me twice.
You're sitting at a desk
but only the back of your hair
emerges before my eyes.

There was no irony
in your rising into my visions.
Your post-existing state
abides in those who do not fear,
who long to seek for your approval.