I Was a Ghost

Church bells ring out, but I am not there to hear.

On the shore, ocean dipped unto the sun.

Sand sprays, tripping on viscera as I run.

If I am too late, I could disappear. 

Screams roaring out as the unsettled frontier

Atrophies into where I had begun.

Church bells swing high above a gate left undone.

Sneak through the ashen courtyard, puppeteer. 

I will learn how to play with organs. 

Anything to meet who I had once been. 

Using entrails from the bottom of the sea, 

I will learn how to play the organ

To meet the maker of all who makes sin. 

Above the atmosphere where we lie down, free.