With weight of or making    needing not a house  a cooler host to be haunted     we carry our own ghost  in corridors of the mindunspoken words    gathering dust motes needing not a house

The silent windswhispering a breezeof memories, yet unborn like a breath of airinward against my face with the scent of beings on a journey across the dunes

Silence of the rain echoingon cobblestones, clinging to silhouettes, unspokenemotions, embracing dreams in corridors of the mindlonging heartbeats, pulsing silence of the rain echoing  

With finger like whispers clinging to kiss in ghostly breath tasting the evidence of primal death wheretwilight falls on forgotten souls and each stone a memory of secrets where silence lingers beneath a cracked carved epitaph and eaves of...