Pale under the moon
through the glass
his limbs still
and soon
before storm clouds pass
over the house and fill

it with darkness she'll slip
in beside him
as into a pool.
Warm ripples will lap
her thighs,brim
her breasts,spool

her close and free
her mind of the trouble
that her kept her late
by the fire,fragrancy
of applewood,to struggle
with her fate

which has always been
to leave what is familiar,
trusted,known,
for the half-seen
shadow world,far
beyond the human zone.


To ---
Who are you?
Did you sleep well? ; )