Insubstantial

I can feel
the fading
as color washes out
of me
I grow transparent
insubstantial
my feet
no longer make contact
with the ground
I open my mouth
to speak
there is no sound
a barely breathing
ghost
who has lost gravity
I slide right
through you
no impression made
barely stirring the air

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved

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