Dynamite

A ghost leaves your body and never returns—
this is a lie.

A person has to earn
the right to forget.

What if, from now on, I subscribe to that specific turn
of the century belief that illness is caused by spirits—

use this to explain why
I tried to protect your body with mine: My life for yours,
remember?
No matter where that promise would have taken me
I would’ve made it. I would’ve

slept forever for you to live.
I’m sorry I lived

through what you could not.
Do you remember the earth before this earth,

your birthplace on fire?
Now my body is kindling owned by your ghost. If I become anything
let there be no stopping it—

let there be grace in living thigh to thigh with ghosts.

That’s the thing about using ghosts as explanations for illness:
you hold them close enough and they become a part of you,

long enough and you forget they are there—
they rip the roof off of the sky.

You forget
there are rules.
They become an apology.

Jill Mceldowney is the author of the chapbook Airs Above Ground (Finishing Line Press). She is a founder and editor of Madhouse Press. Her previously published work can be found in journals such as Prairie Schooner, Vinyl, Muzzle, Whiskey Island and other notable publications.