There’s ghosts on my lips, timid spectres, hid under veils of forbid memories.
They sway when the shadows step out to dance, under moonlit skies and rustling leaves.
Coaxed forth under a curious gaze, with soft smiles and softer hands they may flicker into being, for but a moment, seemingly tangible, before a word blowing into my ears like an autumn leave into a still pool, spooks them, and, terrified, they dissipate back into their position, between my mouth, and my heart.
Good evening, poets.
It’s cold and icy up here in the north.
Here’s my crumble for today.
I took up a few ghosts.
#vss365 #ghost #WIPSnips #position
#emoetry #terrified #2wordprompt #fix #hunger