Relating with the dead, a poem

I'm thinking more and more this morning about what it means to engage in historical research, and most especially about the relationship with the dead such research engenders. For this blog post, then, a little poem I wrote that tries to express something of the nature of that relationship:

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Falling in Love (Or, the Delirium of Discovery and the Eroticism of Historical Research as Told Me by an Apparition on a Sunday Morning)

Just before the ectoplasm runs like salty mucous down my thigh, I hear:
I am mesmerizing you.
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