What web captures shadow?
I dream the dead and they
dream me
in the clean linen of longing,
the tear of a marital sheet,
the burial shroud of hours,
and the pain of return.
A spirit appears and disappears
at my house, in faces in the
wood-knots,
hands outstretched
in doorways. The tap spits hair
and unspools thread. Stitched-shut
mouths sing melodious
in another room.
The forest bleeds against the
window: my voice—our voices
are a burning smoke in the leaves.
The trickster spirits harvest
sound, their eyeless bodies
peer inside from eaves
and shutters.
Our voices are
their voices. Our voices
are heard singing. We open
our eyes and open the door
to the emptiness:
I fade in and out.
They fade in and out.
We fade in and out.
Tiffany Morris is a Mi’kmaw/settler writer of speculative fiction and poetry from Kjipuktuk (Halifax), Nova Scotia. She is the author of the horror poetry collection Elegies of Rotting Stars (Nictitating Books, 2022). Her work has previously appeared in Apparition Lit, Uncanny Magazine, and Nightmare Magazine, among others. Find her on twitter @tiffmorris or at tiffmorris.com.
Photo by Declan Lopez on Unsplash
