The Ghost Who Watches Me as I Write (For Will)

Ghosts and demons
coast in breathing
frost and seedlings,
the fog that dogs you
with kinescope vision.

You shiver,
imagining the mollusk shell crunch
of dead leaves under dead feet,
a hellhound walking on your grave.

The feeling courses in your veins,
a scorching corset and breathing pains.

-GD Butler

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