shaping a river

Those whispers from the ghost of death.

Late. It’s time to turn off the light
and the ghost of death comes whispering to me
again.

"Won’t you come with me tonight? I know
You want to. I can feel it."

"Yes. I want that."

Looking away, I can see that the scarred walls
And the dirty floor are grinning at me. As if to say,
"Do it. Go with the ghost. Do. It."

A book o…