We were lying on the bed
And you were talking about ghosts
Of America’s girls
Dragged up from the sorrowful past
Best hidden from view or you
But missed like heart breaking old friends.
Out of sight, out of mind
But you tugged on my sleeve and pulled my hair,
Dying for a glance or a simple word that wasn't coming.
I so desperately wanted you to stop
So I shut my own mouth and eyes
And lay silent and still
Until I became a ghost too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well scripted; interesting play on ghost themes!