There is a space in my bed that the ghost of you fills.
A pillow your head still rests upon.
In the quiet of the night, I see you there.
Naked, with the sheets pulled up to your waist.
Lights turned to that weird pink color,
got your favorite songs playing throughout the room.
Dead Can Dance, Max Richter, Philip Glass.
That Affection track randomly comes on.
I stand before your ghost, taking my pants and shirt off.
Sliding in right next to it. Stealing a look at its chest.
Feeling my hand slide over it’s nipples.
As real as anything else in this world.
It’s been a long while, babe.
But you weren’t ever really gone.
Still there in my bedroom.
Still here between the sheets.
Never have I felt so hard in my life,
those nights of laying on my back looking at the ceiling.
Imagining all of the things I would do to you.
Stuff that would make the angels blush.
Yeah, you’ve never left.
I’ve been fucking you inside of my head for days.
Didn’t care about anything else.
A relationship with you was a bonus.
In my bed, you speak only in vowels.
Laying upon my altar with eyes wide shut.
Dripping your wetness all over the sheets.
The glow of the moon across your face.
I feel your mouth tighten around me,
those brown eyes looking into my own.
That darkness, this light.
This glorious light.
Three years and you haven’t really known me.
Because I’m all the things you never could have imagined.
Even your ghost agrees as it bites it’s lip,
glancing behind as I mount it.
And I’ll be fucking you for days to come.
Keeping one eye towards the door.
Waiting for you to walk through it.
Waiting.
For your flesh and bones.
