live on as contacts,
among those I friended
and if not, then
as their friends of friends.
In old emails
ghosts of the past linger
and on random occasions
to say boo or hello
when searching for John D.,
the one who is living,
a dead one in ether says
Aye.
For a moment
it feels discombobulating
conversing with the dead.
Such are the times
we live in.
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