I am standing in the dim hospital hallway.

My soul has left her body and she is travelling
through a syringe tip,

squeezing life

from lung.

She pauses beside a broken skeleton
and admires his sunken eyes and feathery hair.
Edges along his arm cut the apparition to her bone
as away he rolls, like a cadaver
she loved before the dissection that destroyed it.

Then, sudden warmth in blue
behind her, smiling,

burning

in a language futuristic.

She recoils and responds, lizardlike,
cold, unfeeling,

full.

The ghosts snaps back inside me,
agitates my insides,
and I leave my dinner on the linoleum.