There are nights
When I lay back
Looking at the ceiling
Light and shadow
Chasing
Dancing their ancient dance
Across valleys and mountains
Little hills and lakes
And I marvel
At your closeness
In your absence
Your breath on my neck
Your fingers across my lips
Gliding
Ghostly phantoms
Pale warmth
Heating me within
While the tip of my nose
Grows cold
And tickles a sneeze.
~Leandra Drache