One shadow lost in darkness, hollow touch achieved in fantasy
The whisper after witching hour, entering she sees only me
Dress for a kiss
The waking, life, the dead
I told her this
You're making your own bed
A dream of s** so thrilling without consequence, what comfort brings
I'll never have to rehearse an apology, for tragedy
Captured, adapted, with this pinhole
Taking of your hand for all I know
Stare through my insincerity
To fulfill, yet less physical still
Risking this timeline to expose
Life in credibly invasive detail
Nothing I can hold forever