An addict to the Moon

What sweet nothings should I whisper to you on a night like this?

My radio plays the soft whine of the sax. The guitar races the drum to see which will capture the pace of our heartbeats.

I have never gone this way…

I’m afraid it’s too pure for a wretch such as me. Things will change before my eyes, you will want to talk. I… will… want…

But, back to that night as the moon caressed your face and lit your eyes…

That foul night, how I wished I was a man and not a shade.

A monster that’s wants nothing more but your company and touch but would die if either came to pass.