Ghosts – Dreams for Sale

bed1Ghosts sleep

behind this window glass,

their memories confused

by labyrinths of iron

and caresses

of prospective buyers.

 

Their spines and cheeks

leave no impression

but I see them,

layered deep in time,

all who slept and dreamed and loved

on this Baroque and dislocated bed

embraced in the arms of Morpheus.

 

The antique sign says

“Dreams for Sale.”

Outside looking in

I am inside looking out.

My face reflects

on haunted pillows.

I pause,

whisper

“You are loved”

and walk on.

 

 Photo and Poem by clinock. (edited redux)