My Own Ghost

Allow me to touch
your courage, the crest

of forgetting.

Every window
has a blank side...

I never said
you could see

through it.

When you look
away, this darkness

becomes human-

the ceiling
of passage.

I will leave
my body

to space...

to whom,
to where?

Our moment
ripens, discovers

the part
that falls away,

the quiet,
the rhythm,
the deep sleep,

the silent cradle
of sacrifice-

within it
I am filled

with my own

ghost.