Predictions of Ghosts

the colors parade. in that arrogant way that they do. when my skin is pliant and eager to be removed. it's just the daylight. the way it abruptly transistions into darkness. that has be confused. i unfold those attic stairs. but there's nothing up there that i haven't already lost.

there are so many boxes. so many possbly dead cats inside of them. there is the chemistry. the reaction. of base to acid. the way that her clothes come off when she's lonely. the distance. between the raindrops. so vast.

she encourages the mimes. pieces of gaulfalt positioning thier experiments. this absurd transition. from young to old. begs the question. when we knew. how i could've ever been so naive.

the silence always trading against the sequence of condition. the oratory of fading ghost. applause enough.