angry poltergeists

I am listening to your intentional typing
noticing your knitted eyebrows 
feeling a ghost’s caress on my lower back
a knock on the ceiling 

I hear the train in your neurons                      d
transporting thoughts that cause         a c c i    e n   s
                                                                                        t
in the space between you and everything 
else and           me

The ghost smiling as he traces my shoulder now
while you deliver your cargo of worries
and leave me by the streetlight 
h o l d i n g on to my shadow 

You return on the same train
with the same shipment              the air smelling of 
exhaust             tousled hair                  misplaced eyes
              disjointed soul             a knowing smile   
                                                                                    dexterous fingers

    Will you caress my lower back now?

about a tree

Sprouted I did                           !
I heard that I was needed some         where
and  decided to walk there
only to find myself firmly rooted 

to a girl with branches
in a land of dust and questions
where silence is the last desire
and the first at times

when there is nothing else but the
wait for that ray of sunshine that 
will bring hope to the girl’s eyes
the one with the branches

                                                       and the dust

                                                             and the questions

 

rain