When Phantoms Sleep





 When Phantoms Sleep


 

Because I did see you last

on a street in Providence;

red bricks rising

in the gray air,

like Lovecraft snaring us

together in his smoky dream.

We were to walk together

in Lowell, in its columns of night.

We were.

That meeting still came to pass,

but in mist of words;

our stories always tell true.

Our story rewrites until waking,

but never waking.

That is who we are;

no shades cross between us,

we are the ones never waking.

  

Meg Smith

 

Meg Smith is a poet, journalist, dancer and events producer living in Lowell, Mass. Her poetry has appeared or has been accepted to The Cafe Review, Star*Line, Illumen, Pudding, Dreams & Nightmares, and more. 

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