sometimes it only makes sense later...

...no title yet...the product of magnetic poetry at its finest...
in the witching hour
I ache for death
by a smooth sweet shadow
delirious and diamond cool
I dream there, languid and drunk with wonder,
a vision in moonlight,
a haunting stare
flooding my mind
it lingers long after the light has faded
and I'm lying here alone
when I reach out for it
my fingers brush only the memory,
and the moment is over
...none must know the way I say
I love you in my dreams.