Illumination

[poetry_se7en]

He was light,
A tingle in my hand
In the warm dark of morning,

Illuminating every organ
Individually,
Every ache receding

Into his touch,
Leaving a new warmth
Under my skin.

*

Are you able to visit people
When you sleep? I asked.

The cemetery was quiet around us.

I was aware, now.
Fully and finally.

It's possible, he told me.

And I remembered.