ghosting

Speaking in starlight, a nameless photon ablution. Cool finding things you said a lifetime ago, being quoted for them, not remembering, so you can enjoy them as just words, and not as a part of you. Something I said maybe a year or two or five ago:

I’m ready to die, but not till I know she’ll ghost with me.

One of those pretty faces that was kind to me, no doubt, though I’ll never be able to trace its source.

I dream of the dead or the dead dream of me and I’ve never been afraid of them, though maybe they hate me. For living, still. Breathing and beating and the rest, but I doubt jealousy lasts long underground. Demons hound me, but I know where to go.

A giant evil Korean cicada got in my bathroom the other day and so I closed the door and kept it closed till today. It’s gone. I hope.

Oh, too, one of my students shit his pants in class today. Awkward/disgusting.

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