leave me your ghost
each day you become more memory than material
its 10pm on a monday night. i’m flipping through the pages of my journals from june, underlining and highlighting the scribbled inscriptions so i remember who i am and who i’ve been. i retrace the pages, dog-ear the poems and copy them into my digital worlds.
here’s one I copied down & spoke aloud to share with you, my fellow mourners~
There’s a way in which I’m more familiar with her ghost.
The phantom lingers.
The whispers that guide, haunts that remember and keep you with me.
Each day you become more memory than material.
Each day more fluid and I more porous.
And overtime,
we blend and I forget what is you and what is me and what is the you in me.
Overtime I become it all:
the composite.
A sunlit composition of stardust and shadow.
more soon,
raya