And in a  quiet, half-lit room,
alit by both the sun and moon,
I let your image in my mind,
take over almost all my time.

And there, my mind, preoccupied,
will not stray with matters outside,
I'll think sweetly of your soft lips,
and how I wish to taste each kiss.


And when the moon succeeds the sun,
and the time for dreams has begun,
I'll lay in my cold, empty bed,
Wishing you close, alone instead.