Misted Veils

Here is where I breathe in the mist
your mist
hovering, spreading like
stretched-out moonbeams
a silvery chill
morning visions obscured

drivers slowing down
but not turning on their lights
searching for phantoms of lost
loved ones, lost dreams
lost selves in the fog

here is where your mist leaches
into my bloodstream
morphs veins to clouded shrouds
like veils over widows’ faces
all those forgotten souls smashed
down into thick phantasms

driving through the bodies
spreading a ghost-blood labyrinth
endlessly lost without light
searching, searching

but here is where I become your mist
wisp of a lover
hovering, spreading like
stretched-out moonbeams
a silvery chill
forever a haunting vapor

—Sara Tantlinger

Sara Tantlinger resides outside of Pittsburgh on a hill in the woods. She is the author of Love For Slaughter and The Devil’s Dreamland: Poetry Inspired by H.H. Holmes, both released with StrangeHouse Books. She is a poetry editor for The Oddville Press, a graduate of Seton Hill’s MFA program, a member of the SFPA, and an active member of the HWA. She embraces all things strange and can be found lurking in graveyards or on Twitter @SaraJane524 and at saratantlinger.com

Sara’s work can be found on Amazon.

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