Haunt.

I took up residence
In the ghost house,
While it was still there.
I was there too.

Piano strings tie down
In the ghost house.
Let the little shadows lie
In blue, dead air.
Through the windows,
sun rise,
And not a televisions glare.

But at some point
that morning,
The Heart wound up
on the floor.

In a mess of torn curtains,
Creations of red ribbons,
Swaddle the Heart
On the ghost house floor.

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