Theirs a hint in the air tonight

that you miss me.

I told you I was in another place,

other then being next to you.

Even though your body hadn't left mine.

I turned the lights off

and climbed up the wall.

My naked finger tips were alive with sensation

and I watched you sleep.

I hummed a lullaby that even still haunts your dreams.

And I stayed close.

My hands traveling up and down the skin on your face,

I listened

to all that I was forbidden to listen to.

And crept down,

with the blanket sinking with me.

Next to me,

their is a ghost,

who's belly rises as equally beautiful has the sun and moon.

But he is a ghost that will be gone by morning.

His face is fancy,

to fancy to have mine next to it.

My writings finely tire of me,

and I lay down,

to rest.