Self-Portrait, Nevine Sultan
* * * * * * * * *
I see you, My Ghost,
after an immeasurable duration of separation.
And though the ‘immeasurable’ is relative,
my first thought is, God, you look so old.
I know this thought should be followed by,
I wonder if you think the same of me.
But, I do not have that thought.
Instead, I think how reverent it is to
age from the lashes and strokes of life.
I think how immaculate are the creases that
cut the edges of our lips and
slice the corners of our eyes.
I think how eloquent are the words
we speak when the spirit wisens,
and surges, like a ghost—
Like you, My Ghost,
inside of me.