give it up, ghost.

EMBODY

                      you are not my
DISEMBODIED BOY -- this
caress cold skin loudspeaker bold against you/me
is filled with the willingness to live, alongside
warmth that is wholly mine, finally...
.... green coffee carpet rests in my mind
    as a crackling and sad stillness. the crows
    voodoospeak as the sky is
    sinking into the earth::they peck at
    memory as if it is the weakest prey
    they can find.
         MOVING ON: your hands in mine --
         the caress cold skin loudspeaker nightmare
         bold against only me, begging to be let out into
         the hungry mouths of vultures that go by
         my own name...