my lover is arcane
for, he only speaks in tongues
he breathes cold, cadaverous air
to fill my empty lungs
Latin chants
over freshly turned earth
he comes creeping in the night
when not another soul is heard
beneath a new moon sky
and in the howling wind
he quietly stalks
aching to nourish his sins
cemeteries are always silent
for, death brings with him a certain hush
you can barely hear his ghostly moans,
not even the roses blush
my lover is strange
for, he never makes a sound
but the pale look in his eyes
can make my dead heart pound
his voice sends gentle waves into the air
they resonate loud around my head
just long enough to
bring me back from the dead
aural necromantics,
we dance beneath decade-old graves
to the cadence of collecting memories
something my body yearns for and craves
again and again,
he brings me back to life
as our lascivious scene fades
into black and white
and when we are together,
I am but frail bones beneath his grip
there is little else I yearn for as
his bony fingers trace my hips
draped in black lace
between silk coffin sheets
my lover and I breathe
one foot apart and six feet deep
eternally I will lie
here in his stone-cold clutch
he is my graveyard baby,
my skeleton boy crush
So Nadine Writes 