I’d forgotten what a haunting costs.
My old callouses trace back down the row
Hoed quick and straight in the fear of god
And of love soured into vice, twisted and sharp.

Your eyes are steadier than I am strong
So I’ll walk the walls with you
If this quaking breath is stolen by shades
And wait in your arms till we can coax it home again.

Hännah Ettinger is a storyteller on a quest.