The Ghost His words fall on deaf ears, his silhouette on blind eyes. His heartbeat echoes through a dusty, aching chest. If you listen closely, you can hear it, not that you would bother to listen. He is translucent. Is he really there at all? Maybe he isn't real. A figment of the imagination. (He wishes.) Did you know he sees the world in monochrome? Black and white. Black and white. The occasional splash of grey. (Grey! How exciting! Must have been a good day.) Maybe a smile would help him to be seen? (It didn't.) His smile either had too many teeth or no teeth at all - both unsettling. Both fake. Both translucent. Both ghostly. See him.

I dreamt we were stargazing I dreamt we were stargazing, Location unknown. You were enthralled by the sight, I was reading blurred words on dead trees. But when I glanced up... ...The stars were moving. Spiralling. Colliding. Spinning. Like a famous painting. "Isn't it amazing?" You smiled. I could not talk, but you understood. We sat in a blissful silence until you went to sleep, And I woke up.