yesterday i was talkin' to a ghost

after tea and honey
she told me her name.

maryrose or maybe it was rose mary
she was grey
and in between funneled thoughts
she leaned against
a moon made of metal

silence and heavy silence slipping from her breath
she smelled of burning sage & agony 

like a stranger full of hope  and regret too sacred to  be 
but a mere sighting of coincidence 
she was there and the moon was trembling
at the touch of her resilience

rose and mary - she was

but mind you i never wear my contacts
in the dark

so i could be mistaken.