You kiss me in voices none can hear,
Whispers of danger laced with fear.
Phantom fingers trace my spine,
Each touch sharp, like a porcupine.
My bed remembers the weight of a ghost,
A lover I conjure when I need her most.
You snap my mind slowly from behind,
Half imagined, half true, but forever kind.
I speak to shadows that wear your face,
They smile at me with trembling grace.
You do not sleep, neither do I;
We make love bleeding the silent sky.
Madness or devotion—who gets to say?
Even stars forget night from day.
I'd rather die in your velvet illusion,
Than wake up stripped of our confusion.