Dark night is best,

perhaps, for the sense of lost anonymity.

Cool autumnal wisps across her breast bring thoughts of early winter.
A falling leaf winds across a leg.
The warmth between lips gives rise to the sense of life.

The first day was a dart across some light to the safety and comfort of the night.
The cold night raised the skin in loving touch. Anticipation.

To lie in long moist grass as each star trickles the surface of her body.
Such joy! Physical joy, to be embraced by the world.

Her moon and stars, her distant sounds, her cold breath of life that stirs the soul
to a fire of wonder is the lightness of the dark as she floats free