Ghost

my husband and I joke

that I'm not really

living this life right now

I'm not really

a wife and dog mom

in a deluxe house and town

I'm back in Berkeley

the place where we first met

where I spent the early stages

of the pandemic

I'm in lockdown

that has gone on

for four years without pause

my dog Ernest is a rabid raccoon

that I pet and have become sick from

my California house

and our vacations

are a calendar of images

I hang in up my closet

stroking each picture

I am talking to myself

convinced I've survived

when I'm only insane,

diseased, a ghost with nothing

tangible to touch