hold the flashlight up
under my chin
like a suicidal jedi knight
breathe out
empty those lungs yogi-style

in the light a vapor forms
the amorphous shape
undulates away
disappears as water droplets
spread and the temperature
between them and the adjacent air
becomes insignificant

exhale again
step into
the little cloud of myself
feel nothing

neither the sudden cooling
of nighttime sea spray
nor the volcanic steam
of the just finished running dishwasher

just nothing

and is this
–i wonder aloud to the dog–
what ghosts don’t feel
when they pass through
one another?