Myung-Hee, knows the ghost is here, knows it’s loss.
A charm of silver around her neck, keeps her strong.
The tracks have known so many suicides and regrets.
Myung-Hee, retreats into her hoodie, hugs herself tight.
Spirits of the dead linger, and this one, young girl broken,
whispers in her ear, how soft and quiet are sunless seas,
how warm the waters that soothe away the scars and blood.
Myung-Hee knows there is no peace on the other side, no quiet.
Cold in her hoodie, wiped out and numb in her mind, she puts in
earbuds, to find the song her mother loved, that she still recalls
listening to, safe in her mother’s arms, soothed by her heartbeat.
The beat of the music, the hiss of the tracks, is a poor recollection.
As Myung-Hee walks up the stairs from the subway station,
up into the lurid second daylight of the city, the noise unceasing,
the ghost gets left behind, wisps away into the depths of the station.
But there’s alway a ghost, always a temptation to leave.
Old historical documentary on YouTube, about the Lorelei.
Oh, you son-of-a-bitch, you who called me sweetie, honey pie!
The Lorelei sat on the rocks, great beauties, and sang a siren song.
You went and did it, put your cock somewhere it did not belong !
The Lorelei lured the sailors onto the rocks, sailors temptations killing.
The fact that you could tell me, and her that “I Love You”, is chilling.
But she wasn’t magic, that siren song wasn’t for sure, you didn’t have to.
You could have stayed true to me, kept your vows, but you didn’t want to!