Ghosts
Persistence of the Missing

I.  

They are ghosts
The persistence of the missing
Translucent silhouettes of memory
that hang like forgotten laundry
slack against the sun

We are haunted
by what we cannot forget
what we cannot escape
or remember clearly
edges receding into the darkness
grotesque limbs of a misbegotten dream

They are ghosts
woven within the fabric of being
silken strands strung between perception
and experience, near invisible until the sun
sliding shadows, plucks them for a moment
and they are revealed, a crystalline depiction
of what we thought we had forgotten

II.

As the body deteriorates
as tensions tear and frictions consume
more than they create
as the body lessens
the spirit appears
cold as stones beneath the sand

III.

They are the unclear spirits
near the heart of fears
faces sinking beneath the surface
pale skin becoming a strange shade of blue
as the water closes over their mouths
As they cease to breathe, settling at the bottom
(one more rock among the bodies
one more body among the rocks)
they dissolve, slick strands of bubbles rising like transparent pearls
Every breath held, released
every kept secret, relinquished
Whatever essential presence once possessed
whatever terrible knot once tied together
is now undone by distance, loosening them into pieces
color separating from the skin, sensation from the fingers
softness from the hair, and love from their lips
now nothing but a quiet pile of associations
the remnants of the drowned

IV.

They are ghosts
hidden beneath the skin
the whispering frictions of motion and encounter
The unexpected malevolence of a touch
The sudden black horror of inarticulate memory
the discovery of oil where only sand was thought to be

We are haunted
by the voices of who we have been
by the ache of blood that will not drain
by the impact of fists that have long stopped hitting
by the shapes of faces that do not change
that are as untouchable as hunger, wind and cold
who cannot be beaten or chased away
who can only be named and revealed for all their translucent terror
to dissolve in the simplicity of sun

They are ghosts
the persistence of the missing
The shadows of hills long since crossed
the angle of intrusion upon the heart
and of glass into the skin
The language of memory written in the body
in the shapes of scars and hearts