good night

another response to Aditi Rao's The Fingers Remember

when my granny lived
i never went to bed early.
she crafted many ghosts
by night for years. these ghosts were too loud
                               in a house for two to sleep   tight.
each night i've heard her ghosts
scream and sniffle in her weak arms - between her bow and fiddle (also where they were born)
their bewildering uproar had never let me sleep
i listen until these ghosts dissolve into nihility - into a resounding decadence where i'll eventually
sleep. now that my granny is dead, here ghosts don't scream
           and this silence in a house for one never lets me