do you believe that we are time-ghosts,
that we were born from death
to haunt this earth a while?

i thinks so. i was born on the winter solstice,
the longest, darkest night of the year.
i was born late. i was born a ghost. 
i was born too late, 
a time-ghost. 

i'm just talking. in my head.
i'm just dreaming,
i'm full of ghost-logic.
my reason's irrational,
ghosted at the root.  

i'll censor myself ruthlessly, i'll censor myself
secretly,
still i'll be unleashed.

is anything innocent? is anything innocence
itself? 
is all relation
tangled roots?
but surely, please,
images are innocent
of how we see. 

there were some images here i can't see now,
they are ghost images.
there'll be other images, 
innocent like these.
but not these.