a seedling, a shadow, a whisper on the earth
ghosting through life
on the fringe
where vicariousness is opted for 
over visceral experience

safety is found behind curtained hair
mute the joy, temper the pain
silence any connection
remain a vague, wisp of a memory
receding and blending into the background

I am but a ghost

©Deena Remiel, 2010.

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