Spencer Riggi
| poetry


a ghost came to me once
a specter shrouded in fog
and stared at me through
sunken mounds, lifeless
caverns hollow like clay
caved in by thumbs
I don’t know if it could see
it had no mouth, so it could not speak
and no ears, so it could not listen
its head was a hovering mass, vast
but abandoned, fissured and crowning
in a crater with jagged edges, melted
under heat from surfaced magma
it stood naked beyond the mist
hot air skirting breached bone
steam spilling through the gaps
protrusions jetting into
ossified speleothems
the ghost felt close enough
to touch but distant, as if buried
beneath a thick film, entombing
the fractured pieces in place
I think of the ghost often
and wanting to reach out,
stretching a hand through
the blur to peel away
what held it together
to unravel the flesh
let the carcass collapse
trace the damage
and recognize

Spencer Riggi resides in Orlando, FL. A graduate of Rollins College, his work has also appeared in Rust + Moth and LEVEE Magazine.

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