The apartment leaks footsteps,
it’s hard to avoid their featherweight padding.
Fabric and pith teach
walls how to speak;
fragmented recordings
that always threaten to utter
something intelligible.
Ears question,
closed eyes grope for answers.
They abide --- the indwellers,
they nightly rearrange,
whatever you thought was yours
as you daydream of being real.
The apartment leaks footsteps.
Ghosts avoid their featherlight padding.
They dwell in the fabric and pith,
teaching the walls to speak;
fragmented recordings
always threatening to utter
something intelligible.
Who are they, what are they?
Such questions
only arise under closed eyes.
They abide
they arrange and restore
whatever you thought was yours
as you dream of being real.
The apartment leaks their footsteps.
Ghosts avoid them
they live on in the fabric and pith,
die in the gist and substance
as fragmented recordings;
the former, the previous.
Once they were the replacement tenants
now you’re the usurper.
They won’t speak to you,
for you are not there,
however they will arrange and restore
what you thought was yours
as you dream of being.
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