Pleasure and the Ghost

If you’d allow me the pleasure,
Id moan your name
in my sleep.
Lets tremble and tumble
our spirits together
a moment
and I could serenade you
in the dawn coming.
The rhapsody of intertwining,
I could barely
hold your gaze
for the wanting
and the deep seeing
down into
the marrow of you.

The ivy wraps around
my waist and whispers
in my ears,
my senses go hunting
the astral planes
for signs of life,
maybe even a river
to wade through,
drown down those

tears to the ghost.

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