SPOTLIGHT: ‘Ghosts Passing Through’ by Janet Dale


Closer to morning than to night, my thigh glued to your thigh as we huddled together in a tight orange booth Fluorescent light bounced into frame while we smiled for my camera You moved and my arm slid pointing the lens outside as the shutter snapped Film developed weeks after ‘we’ end Captured: half a napkin dispenser propped against glass, broken pavement, faded parking lines lit neon, and if squinting just right—ghost us

Between the Pauses
Invention of night, felt in the jaw
(spotlights and hotel room keys)
a refrain I’ll tell again.

Electric voices and sirens
call out, filling empty space
left behind by your body.


Kindness pulsed against lips,
blood rushing to fill space left
behind like a balloon on its way
to taste the moon.

Heavy on edge, purple
contusions feathering pale
skin fast like crows flocking
home in demonic shapes.

Earlier these bodies twisted,
branches aching to touch
windswept breathing but
not even words remain.


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