The Hamlet Project

Staring at the ghost of someone I know
Having begged it to speak to me,
Having watched it make signs,
I would wonder if it could speak.
I would wonder if death has taken the voice
If not the body, or the appearance of the body,
The outline, the hologram, the shadow of the body.
I can see that it still moves
That it is expressive and life-like
But it doesn’t breathe anymore, does it?
Can it speak with no breath?
Death must mean the loss of something if it’s not the body, it might be the voice.