>>5682936>>5695320From the tall and tufted reeds she sat and played in a dream. Nearer, she approaches, as the sun descends from abandoned heavens, and your insolent soul would be gone as flowers taken by a hot wind. Day usurped by desolate Night.
She is very close...
You see her shake her Night-dark hair, with a little sigh of ease; a sigh of pillows and sinking firelight, of skin open to the stars and the whisper of bare trees.
The soul of the wind is in your Blood -
-But the water loves me and folds me,
She murmurs, as stray sunlight shames her shyness,
-By Birth and Death and all Dark Names That Be...
And she leans closer, and closer, until you are warmed by her hand and shadowed by her hair, the hungering thrill of her eyes, the delicate love-lines of her mouth, scent snared in soft kisses, the burning moan of her lips even as the flood-tide of tremulous kisses falters - her soul is in the dying softness of her kiss, as breast to breast you cling to one another, breath frail and strong upon each other, bound body and soul in quivering fire - You are drinking from her, from the hollow of her hand to the secret hollows between her thighs, the trance of light of her skin and touch - You have tasted the release of slow surrender to her song, her dreamless blood and the ache of her dance of want...
She is gone.
