Itch

When the itch returns, I cannot refuse.

you have me intoxicated
from beneath, from below.
sweet, sweet liquid
flooding veins.

someone else's lady.
someone else's hill.
he came to me,
taking your form.

he knew a few words,
unknowing.
singing old lines,
called me "lovely".

lie counting tiles,
watching for the moon.
there is no moon,
he asks why.

the room can't mask
your shadow.
can't veil my light.
come up from
your water lair.

I'll leave my hill.
past a drenching night
moonless.
past this white bed.

make a bed of green
paint a dream of blue
break the tiles of grey.