It was the disconsolate dreaming
that kept me up at night,
nestling against the pericardium.

Those soft, gentle tendrils
mere wisps of a phantom
reaching through flesh
and grasping desperately
through the deepest states of repose.

You won’t ascertain
the profound effect that you have on me
taking my heart to places it’s never been
and never knew it would travel,
all from under a quiet sea of blankets,
wrapped in my mind’s photograph of you.

Closing my eyes,
I see your smile, backlit by
the beautiful glow in your eyes;
I can hear your voice
a low rumble like thunder
as a deluge of raindrops
caresses the windowsill.

It was the reverie,
which held my senses captive
well after midnight.

You won’t witness
as my body’s craving for you
overtakes any semblance
of complex thought.

My hands trailing slowly, patiently
over each sensitive plane of my body
gasping as I imagine your hands
pushing mine away, to claim my flesh
as though it always belonged to you.

It was that hunger,
which helplessly possessed me
in the twilight obscurity.