Ghostrise

— José Vadi

and do the windows
i never notice
outside
the morning train
really exist?

or are they
square reflections
of city engendered
ghosts mistaking

my hand
for veins,
the nothing
running into me
on this train

                              and really,

                              how does
                              one say
                              Hello
                              to a ghost

                              without
                              recognizing
                              parts of
                              themselves
                              that also
                              decay?


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