what the ghost thinks of me – a poem by Lorelei Bacht

what the ghost thinks of me

 
this rose shell is recalcitrant: 
although i have led her 
 
to water every night, proposed 
skeleton keys and bloodletting, 
 
she prefers to take flight, to stay
intact, suffer. i have run out of hands 
 
to launch her to ocean. with moon
tides, i invite her return. she turns 
 
her face away from me and runs,
scrambles for distractions in these dry
 
sediments, structures of solitude: 
will he save her, will she save her, 
 
will they? her predictive patterns are
musical – i enjoy a listen – but lengthy
 
and repetitive. when i unpeel 
my face from this one storyline, and
 
before i witness the next embodiment, 
i will say this: that it was difficult.
 
interesting, but difficult.

Lorelei Bacht is a poetic experiment, a beautifully broken body, and a mother to two young children. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Beir Bua, Dodging the Rain, The Madrigal, Briefly Zine, The Selkie, Green Ink Poetry, streecake, Marble Poetry, and elsewhere. She is also on Instagram: @lorelei.bacht.writer and on Twitter @bachtlorelei

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