The Ghost of Me
“they pass and repass through the air”
I saw the painting mounted on the wall
of the Museo de Bellas Artes
in dusty Sevilla. I could not miss
three female figures, conspiring in shawl.
Dusk settling, crowd gathered for the ball,
a spotlight illuminates the dresses.
Faces held close. What neck tingling is this?
Strong kholled eyes smile, tugging loose the caul
that had enveloped me. A protective
layer of my own making. A strong wish
to hide, face pressed against the windowpane.
Shaking bones need hope, even tentative.
Creeping illness makes paint and thoughts bluish,
that I would like to begin again.
Constance Bourg lives in the Flemish part of Belgium, where she volunteers at a local social food market. She has studied creative writing with the Open University in the UK whilst living in Ireland, and that is where she found her love for writing in the English language. Now living by the North Sea in Belgium, she likes to take things easy because she’s chronically ill with ME/CFS.
The Ekphrastic Review
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