City Ghost

I’ve taken to tip toeing around your borders, scraping a fingernail on your window at night when you’re asleep and can’t see me.
Did you know when we were both younger than we are today I created someone like you on paper, my stick figure puppet of words; eloquent and sore.
I had forgotten until now that I harboured a secret desire to glue my old words together till they made sense for you since you love puzzles.

I’ve taken to hovering over your sleeping form, curling my tongue around the dreams that leak out your mouth, licking down the surreal midnight forest in our minds;
In my throat a moon fox gets caught and it spends three days trudging behind my uvula before I release it.


I’ve taken to drinking my tea out of smaller cups so I can finally have the last drops before it cools,
it’s become important to me to devour everything.
I’m licking lids and the ridges under my nails, wondering if you’re still here in the lines on my fingertips, like ink sometimes sticks to the skin for days.
When I speak, certain words linger on my teeth and I find I can’t say them all, I tuck them behind my molars and my language shrinks around you.

I’m sleeping with my windows open listening to the buzz of the grey towers mankind has erected in honour of hollow productivity. I’ve taken to counting the breaths of the city and one day I will ask you in sincerity if you can feel the heartbeat in the train lines, I just have to be a ghost a little longer. 


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