Burying the Ghost

I buried you today
six months deep—
in the gray-clad mist of morning.
The dirt and dew clung to my boots,
like you had clung to my mind—
leeching memories and filling them with poison.

I buried you today,
but I brought you no roses—
the thorns you left in my heart were enough.

There were no tears (not anymore)
and the last breath to leave my lungs—
the last breath upon laying the shovel down—
was relief.
I buried you today
not the bones, but the ghost—
an airy apparition left to perish in the fog.


Dorian J. Sinnott is a graduate of Emerson College’s Writing, Literature, and Publishing program, currently residing in the beautiful and historic Kingston, NY with his two cats. He spends his weekends cosplaying at comic cons up and down the east coast, and herding cats at his local humane society. Dorian’s work has appeared in numerous magazines and journals, including: Riggwelter, Crab Fat Literary Magazine, and The Hungry Chimera.

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