Ghosts On Vowels

There is no need for conversation in this house;

your words will bounce around the walls 

and then they'll echo in the basement and come creeping into my ears 

just when I hit the bed 

or when the sunlight hits my eyes 

but your words, 

they will linger

when I open my eyes

or when I'm walking to the metro station,

they'll scribble themselves on the last page of my notebooks 

or fit themselves in between the songs I listen to

while I travel to and fro the same routes 

till I hit the bed again.