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.