That woman there isn’t
real,
That one there didn’t
know about us,
So the ghost continues
What had been a moment once,
These songs you
hear are all about me,
I am every woman
you see,
Your fires are only
memories
Rekindling sacred
ash …
So my own mind said to me
As the effigies on Hallows Morn
Swung low across the tract homes —
The past so unresolved and so remote
Pulls like a second skin across the present wound.
There’s something in me wants a ghost;
Maybe the air is too still
For the dust to carry life,
Maybe I need what is dead inside
Revived, to tell me how to feel
And what to say, or maybe
I just need reminding
When I pretend the past can’t exist
How nothing that once was alive has actually died.