I saw her in the moon tonight
all spectral and ghostly,
but the moon is too far away.
I don’t need her in the moon.
I need her in my bed sweating
and moaning with me.
I need her fighting with me
down some city street’s sidewalk.
I need her to torture my imagination
with heat and conspiracies
and secret delights.
The moon is out of reach.
I don’t need a ghost.
I have plenty of those.