In my journal of poetic love, versus Argus eyed
As I scribe the vermilion with a darker shade
Feeling quintessence of silence calling my name
Fearing no evil and feeling no pain
Under the gleam of the magenta moon
In absentia of cellophane
Awaiting my shadow-lover, who comes soon

Having felt a presence of an amorphous shadow
Like a brush-footed butterfly
As a scent lingers of its gossamer's shawl
Invoking the darkness with desire to share
Our stars may cross, but it's not mine to bear
As I breathe in, what I thought was lost
In absentia of cellophane

There is no startle upon arrival
As a touch turns to feathery filigree upon my skin
And a breath drags me into midnight slumber
Lilting melodies beneath the rising magenta moon
In absentia of cellophane as loons call my heart
As I scribe the vermilion with a darker shade
Feeling quintessence of silence calling my name

The veil between death and life fades
Words of power uttered in near silence
Your essence becomes more substance
No longer a mere darkened shade
Your arms wrap in embrace
Solid, comforting, and still
The sensation your touch brings to my face
Robs me of my will.

The gods are vengeful creatures
The balance is disturbed
Pain decorates your features
As I fight to keep you

Unbearable silence falls on my ears
As your touch is ripped away
My lover a shadow once more
I weep in absentia of cellophane

Thank you to my co-writer, Adagio for his work on this piece. A pleasure to work with.