I’m slowly fading away, getting transparent, translucent, unseen.
One step, two steps, my feet hover.
Traces blow in grains of sand.
A narrow path ahead leads me through thick forests.
The bodies of full-flesh greens, the bugs, and the bees, swallow me,
into the nothingness.
A plea.
My hands, those of ghosts,
My head, of old times,
Once a wind danced with the fog.
They both intertwined.