He undresses you
	A ghost films the act

	He watches you bathe
	A ghost walks on your beach

	He waits in the bed
	A ghost turns down the sheets

	His fingers touch your breasts
	A ghost watches them flatten
	as you stretch out on your back

	His hands caress your belly
	A ghost counts your ribs

	His face presses between your parted thighs
	A ghost wanders into your ears with music

	He covers you with his body
	A ghost points to the stars of the night

	He enters you
	A ghost kneels down to the moon

	His lips pass to your eyes
	A ghost whispers

	When you cut open your heart for him
	a ghost wears the mask of a bird
	with a beak dripping blood as it sings

 Bob Rixon