The scariest thing about
pale floating ghosts—those hollow mute phantoms
of old malignant religions
is their tacit admonition
for not stopping to contemplate
the difficult questions,
for always touching, but never really meeting
or summoning
the ground,
for always being too afraid to scream
in your own voice,
for never loving
the rare and precious
dark parts of your body—that no one else living
ever gets to see.
