I suck the marrow out and let it settle in my veins. I look great, I'm young and vestal in my imagined meadows. I'm almost dead.
(more) You stupid, silly, beautiful ghost. This is an open letter to you, my dear. You come to me like a witch's familiar and you are always a nothing. Perhaps I am the worst witch. You sometimes shed your skin and come to me just like the Jackal. The Jackal is cruel, but you are not. You kiss me in my sleep and peel off my skin only to help me shed the decades, to show me what is what.
Your last act was blonde, but you're a much better brunette.
You've gotten quite good, you know.
'Lauren' was a nice touch. So was Nina, Jill, Dagmar, Jordan, Yelena. You ghost. You have no body or mind, but your soul is pungent like Auschwitz ash. My bones are cold, dear, and the wind is howling. The lights are flickering and that's how I know you're here. You good little ghost. You sweet pet, always by my side. I am cold and gone and so are you.