.. when the ghosts make love again.

i perhaps could have made this better..
inspired by many influences.
i apologize if this seems written in a guy's point of view. i meant it to be mutual.

On a hilltop surrounded by long, overgrown grass sits a house.
Looking picturesque as it's silhouetted against the pale moonlight that falls down upon the surrounding shrubbery. Reflecting off the tiny dew drops, creating a peaceful and mysterious ambience to anyone that would happen to stumble across such a place.
A light summers breeze slowly wafts around the house. Making the grass and pine trees whisper softly.
Twilight dwindles.
As more stars begin to show themselves, joining in the show they put on every night, a tranquil melancholy descends upon the house and its surroundings.

Through the pane-less window frames and into the middle room of the house. A soft warmth emanates from an ancient looking oil lamp. As the birds in the attic shift restlessly and the floorboards creek.
A boy and a girl stand opposite each other, eyes interlocked, their stances closed, yet with an almost tangible willingness flowing from within them.
A single strand of hair falls onto the girl's face in the chilling wind. They take a small shuffle towards each other, their movement rigid and accentuated.
Wordlessly the boy drops his gaze as he moves he hand to the girl's waist. She inhales sharply fixing her eyes on his, and exhales gently pulling her arms around his back. 
Both shaking ever so slightly.

They stand in the centre of the room, crickets chirping nearby. Breathing each other in ever so carefully. No side thoughts, no second thoughts.
The boy breathes in taking in the girl's familiar scent, her hair dancing around her head. They whisper softly to one another.

'You are mine'
'You have my soul'

As the boy leans in, the girl closes her eyes, her lashes softly pressing together, as top meets bottom. 
Their lips brush softly, as their shadows danced eerily upon the walls. Forever for the first time. 
Gradually falling into a rhythm, as his fingers make careful patterns through her hair and she moves her hands gently along his back. Their spines arch.
Bodies and minds intwined, a perfect moment is created in time. Where spirits are joined and breath is one. Where instinct and intuition took over. Where there was no doubt, nor fear.
Nature interacts under the dim light of the moon; slowly the night ebbs away.

As the first rays of light erupt over the horizon, the boy and girl begin to fade. Their spirits dwindling to nothing. Only their soft scent lingers momentarily before being whipped away by the early mornings breeze, disappearing into the atmosphere.
Many days pass, with the grass growing longer and the paint on the old wooden house peeling. Yet every night, as the sun hides its face, the boy and the girl are there again, the words being said with the same passionate urgency.

'You are mine'
'You have my soul'

.. when the ghosts make love again.