Ghosts

So much confusion; whispered voice in mind,
slice them away into that itchiness,
no matter that love cries heartbeats across
distance where thought can touch but not soft lips.
Crushed against sodden earth, frustration's frown,
wet with our language and tears - spread-eagled,
open to the heaven's light blinking time.
Would these hands console that ache within - yes!
Ripples of comfort, the sighs that bow eyes,
stop! Take this freedom offered with a kiss,
roll it around the soft flesh of your mouth,
let it remove all those sounds; ghosts of then.
Echoes will vanish with simple embrace,
linger in these words - let not blood erase
with casual motions, back and forth; screamed ways,
approach the path of beauty, fine fingertips,
stripping the spirit's torment from visions.