I Wake In The Night

I wake in the night,

To stirrings in my psyche,

Ghosts of your presence,

Whispers of your scent,

Indentations from your torso,

Pressed, indelibly etched,

Into the feeling part of my mental flesh,

I hear myself murmur,

And it catches me off guard,

Awakening the emotional beasts,

That dwell in the legends of my heart,

Dreams that generally consist of,

Wild starlit nights,

Under canopies of green trees,

Like emerald fingers,

Shielding us from the moon,

But it is I that seeks you,

Searching out your deepest needs,

Your most secret gifts,

The revelations reserved,

For the true lover of your soul,

The cloaked and covered jewels,

Concealed from the world,

Vividly made plain,

In our sacred wide open,

Unshared, unseen, hidden,

But, bared to me,

Your chosen,

I intuit, divine, and pray,

That you feel the absence,

Of my being from beside you,

In the night,

The darkness that defies,

Your circadian rhythm,

And offers no rest to your weary eyes,

For your spirit rushes to rouse me,

Announcing itself softly,

Unmistakably,

Like muffled thunder,

Rattling my bones,

Raising hairs at my nape,

To wake me,

I surrender to harbingers of your presence,

And I have come to terms,

With willing, if not prompted compliance,

Motionless here,

Lying, rapt in consoled missing,

Loving you in uncontrolled urges,

That force my breathing,

Into patterns that fill between,

Heightened heartbeats,

That drop into bottomless recesses,

And I soothe my own soul,

By promising it that you hear them,

And that for every low thrum,

There is a higher one,

Audible to me, and to no one,

Yours,

As you lay awakened by my distance,

Needing me in this same instance,

And I rest.