"We are plagued
More by presence
Than absence"
He says
Under the cold moon
His hand
Wrapped around my heart
"And sometimes
The plague
And the cure
Are the same"

It's a lie
Because I lie awake
Counting the cracks
In my ceiling
(The ones
The paint couldn't fill)
And the shadows
They make
Chases my soul
And pins it
Against the wall

You are absent
And I have
A greater fever
Than ever before