Not Haunting

Prove this is not a haunting;

prove I am not a ghost,

hovering in longing

in your presence, no skin

to touch. Prove I am with

you, not just wanting. Crave

this sore flesh, these aching limbs.

Hear the singing in my howling.

I am soft but not smooth,

small but not quiet.

I know sometimes you have to

cover your ears, take space.

Prove I am not a ghost

leaning into your life

with my sad moans

and cold bones. Prove

you want my hot breath

and the clutch of my chill fingers.

Prove I am not haunting

the land of the living;

prove I am alive to you.