I’ve gone all small from outside
and inside, I am giant and cosmic
drifting in and out of my own skin

I respect the silent descent of color
as evening, slinging it’s heavy moon
slouches it’s mood over the sky.

But I am left luminous, just as stars
absorb like spider eyes onto surfaces
a caulk, carved for something sake.

I am unimaginable, all inverted features
swallowed into an uncomfortable skull
smarter than a brain that barks.

There are things to interpret about ghosts
besides their flushed up wail’s of waiting
the ferocious erosion of re-existence.