When whispered breaths
are laid to rest,
and a gentle narcotic warm
lulls me,
I will lay my back
against hardened earth
and strip away the facade,
this mask,
my ingratiating shroud of beautiful,
so as to bathe
in the compassion of the moon,
pale and unabashed.
Only then
will the deepest depths of me
avow the ghost.
Only then will this be called love,
and only then will my lull be
not for me, not for you,
but for the sake of love itself.
And every day,
I will lay for you, bare
in the only place
where affection shadows perception.
And every day,
you will fall in love
with someone new.
