I can feel you,
As canary yellow day melts into the blackness of night,
I feel your aura,
Here,
Next to me.
You may be invisible as the sun on a shining night,
But as you whisper my name softly,
Psyche, Psyche, are you there?
Your name travels out of my mouth just as easily,
Like the sun emerging from a blanket of clouds:
Eros, yes, yes I am.
Your aura is golden,
Shiny,
A million golden coins stacked up in a secret vault.
I may not have the key,
But I will still search far and wide for it.
Your aura is almost tangible.
I stretch out my fingers,
As far as they can go,
And just when I am about to touch it,
Touch you,
All that is within grasp is nothingness.
I ponder my failure:
How can you be in my presence when you are really not?
Even candlelight cannot make out your shape,
As the darkness that envelopes your form is impenetrable.
