Mercy

I am at the mercy 

of the phantom that sits

on the edge of my bed.

Encased in the dark, we leer.

It wonders when will my ghost escape

its ragged bones.

I envy your earthly absence.

The barrenness you hold.

(wait for me)

You twiddle with the hands of

the clock.

And I let you.

Tick, tick, tick

the hours strike.

And the voices scream:

“it’s you or me.”

(wait for me)

The water deafens my ears,

the salt kisses me,

the moonlight beams on my colorless cheeks.

Lustfully, the waves pull me in.

in, in, in.

In the sequestered middle,

I slowly begin to arrive.

(wait for me)

I sit on the edge of the bed

of the one who is at the mercy of me.