A sleepwalking discrepancy:
During the day
we were kept down.
Tucked in.
Tightly restricted.
Under a thumb.
The spector shook my slumber,
and the ghastly dialogue
tried to cause harm.
My child spoke in pure innocence.
There is a ghost,
and she wears a red hat
in the ballroom where we danced.
Son, imagine all of the people
who have danced here too.
He knew
although later
I saw the real terror
caused in this ironic creation.
Let him be my only connection
between a demon who violates,
and a spirit who is always free.
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