He whispers scintillate
A ray of light
Look up and see that no one shines the same
He asks if I know that out there in the ether
There is a million people
And then there is me
Globule vivific and
Population statistics
A million and one he says
He speaks to me
Lately there’s been a ghost under his covers
Wrapped up in pale sheets under the twilight glow
I watch from his window
Towering a million miles high
I beg to reach out to shake his frame loose
The ghost in your bed belongs to my body
The friction of skin against cotton sheets
Cant you see my spark