the evolution of ghosts

Earth does not forbid, yet the smell of earth remains forgotten. Inner strictures have little bearing to the outer plenitude which seems more and more like a shell, to be shucked, only to be worn as adornment to protect an inner quietude, a sanctum of disconnect.

I have forgotten the smell of sand
as it sifts through

My intentions. I have received
little in the way of

Relevance when I quote the high
mountain’s resilience

To time. And they shriek a silent
shriek to silence the

Evolution of their ghosts, masks
tired of introspection.