Redress
written by: Antonia Wang
@tuttysan
This fogged mirror has room for one more ghost.
I carry a few on my back and can’t feel them
when I duck to splash my face.
Tap water runs the length of a thought,
or a string of them, pinned to rotting wood
pretending ambiance is a redress
to decay.
No one asks how I define
the spirit world. It’s like looking for lost lore
among the living. The dead keep pinning
their half-colored pages to our clean mirrors.
Sometimes we see them and use our own
markers to fill the empty space.
For show and tell.
On camp nights,
we share their redeemed tales, with our backs
to decaying wood that still binds.
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