Phantom

There is an old man looking over the fence
That man is my neighbour
Take it he does nothing else

He has eyes closed when I contemplate
He bears a neutral glare when I smile
He grins when I am pained

I am in the garden, nice day
I stare into the sky, dwell on a lost relative
I am distraught inside
I contort inside

He is peering over the wall
He is smiling, a frozen chuckle
He is whispering through the garden wall
He is telling me there is art in my pain

I am entranced
He cites an incantation
I pull out pen and paper and write in blood
He has a chuckle that becomes visible

We are watching words appear on a page
We are feeling my stomach turn
We are creating art
We are nauseous

I wake up
He is gone
We are unbound
Words on paper nailed to my chest