i have been having longer
conversations
with Silence

not lovers but we
will share the same bed
she will slip under the blanket
claims in the darkness her own pace
will talk while the moon outside
walks naked waiting for her lover
while stars burn their strange fires
the nocturnals with their nocturnes

even now, she is
a downward spiral vine
over my shoulder slithering
to my naked chest
that wears the cold like a cloak
until her kisses traces
the murmurs of my heart

she tells me i am alive
and so i smile before
she reminds me of what it means
to die.