Two Ghosts
~Leor Feldman
our voices crack like meat on a spit
your eyes apply
enough pressure to tenderize
moon leaks from your lips
hair parted down the middle
like tendrils– gray roots sprout
I focus on the white teeth of your shirt
voices sizzle on low heat
you twist towards me:
“please don’t be gone when I get back”
summer humidity drips
in my waist-band
i sit up as you beckon
like a puppeteer
when I realize it’s me
pulling the strings
