Peter, what do you know about ghosts?
had I been involved from the beginning this shit would have been over
I could have called the girl from college who broke my heart
the sonic boom of all our whispered maybes
would have torn the asphalt from the ground
New York City scab-less and bleeding
every man-shaped phantom gone
replaced with all the ways I have imagined her body
shimmering hologram, playing out a fake future
daydream in the kitchen, she is in a wedding dress
we are brushing our teeth, we are using the same toothbrush
you scream when I am possessed by demons
but love the alchemy I perform each night
dressing you in all the softness of her lips
sending her letters through your open mouth
I know better than to love a woman on camera
stories like mine are always told by directors eager to punish me
I could only tell this story if I bent it around a funeral
nobody knows how to kill a ghost like a closeted queer woman
how she addresses all her love poems to the air
nobody knows how to turn themselves into a ghost like a closeted queer woman
how she haunts her own body
why did you never think to ask the expert?
someone who has spent a lifetime believing in what they could never touch?