Through the open window
She would come and go
The dark lady with a starlit cloak
Wafting silvery smells
Of glowing moon-breaths
I would drink on her spicy smoke

Sunk in her weathered valley I wait
Consumed by rustlings of her silky gait
Among half lucid dreams I retreat
To die a million yearning deaths
Until, she comes in a wispy caress
To lie next to my trembling heartbeat

© Manic Sylph 2016