I have a weakness for ghosts

First of all, I believe in them

They move about in the second half of night

They move when you can’t move your muscles

I wish I was more receptive during sleep

Hooked up to some ghost machine

Try to keep near me, I’d say

The plants by the windowsill grow as we speak

Tell me everything

I’d draw closer until I reach transparency to match

The square of sunlight on the small of my back