And what of ghosts haunting ghosts?
I see her dancing when I close my eyes
She twirls to the thrum of violins playing themselves
Spinning, twirling
Until the bones peek through her feet
And her skirt has beaten itself to tatters

I dreamt her as a child
And I wonder at that feat
I saw the future then, when now
I see nothing at all
Just the world spinning beyond my eyes, dizzier for my life
Twirling, endless
The music is endless
I am not.

I remember when she finally stumbles
Her ribs, her collarbones glisten pale in the lights
And the music tries again to drag her to her feet
But she is beyond its reach

Her corpse, cradled in Death's arms,
knows peace
I dreamt this, a child
The past living in circles
A prophecy, almost
That ghosts will come for ghosts
And that only corpses are beyond the music's reach.