“I wake at 3 am…”

Binding the Moon.jpg

I wake at 3 am
tangled up in sheets
that smell of lavender
and books,
my eye
still pressed
to the lens
and all I can see
in this dead hour light
is the moon
and the curves
of our fusion,
blurred
he comes,
then goes,
so silently
so sweetly
that if not for the lavender,
I would swear he was a haint

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