6159835924_1cd2c95580_z
Type
Poetry

Peripheral drift

Turns out you can still pash in a graveyard
at 28, though by now my fear of spooks
has faded into a more realistic fear of people.

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7102974395_f5948a99fd_z
Type
Poetry

Ghosts

I can’t think of a time she uses it. The word. Ghost.
My difficulty. Believing this. There are ghosts
everywhere in her words. She just uses other.

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