It was only last night that the Ghost turned to flesh
And in the silken folds of its unearthly smile
-Extending to its eyes in subtle riverbeds;
I harvested the scent of flowers, yet unknown:
They were born, and blossomed in the blink of a night.
The fabric of its skin, pearly, newly woven
Clothed my arms and my spine and crept into my bones.
The Ghost that I had seen, haunting me from afar,
Slithering under its veil of silvery hair,
Murmured a melody, half of words, half of sighs.
It was only last night, as the Ghost turned to flesh.