Samhain, J+3

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.