The Phantom Lover
by Theodora Goss

The one I have loved is a shadow
or the ghost of a dream,
a phantom made of starlight
cast on a stream,
whose voice is the murmur of beeches,
whose touch the wing
of a moth that rises with darkness,
or a spider’s sting.

He walks with the sound of branches
that creak in the dark.
I wake and find on my shoulder
a burning mark,
as though hot wax has fallen
on my white skin.
I am conscious of confusion
and pleasing sin.

No boot has come over the casement
though the window’s wide,
and only the call of an owl
is sounding outside,
but my love has been, like a shadow
or the ghost of a dream,
a phantom made of starlight
cast on a stream.

(The image is an illustration by Emma Florence Harrison.)