Alone on the hillside, underneath the stars. So quiet here, but the wind is singing. Singing a lullaby for me, and dancing. It is dancing with my dress, with my hair; cool breath upon my skin as outstretched arms invite it, and crisp laughter is a chorus. Even the earth knows this dance, the grass sways in time and I am no longer standing, for the air unites us; I am the earth, gratefully lost in this. Time has forgotten us, but I did not realise then, for such realisation would have me remembered, and my unseen partner with whom I play would be only the wind, a chill in the night air, and once again I’d stand alone.

      But there is another on the hillside. I can hear him now; hear his boots on the grass like distant percussion for this gentle symphony. Although, he does not hear the music as I do, but the beat is there. And it is growing colder. Oh brothers, sisters, look! Look! He comes closer. Dark figure through a soft mist, and boots that could almost be floating. Look! I dare not listen any longer. My lovers, you go to him, you dance with his ebony cape, and I am afraid. He knows me, he knows my fear, and still he comes, closer, closer.

      Oh dark stranger, how delicious you are in your mystery. How, even in my fright, I want you, and you can taste my scent already. I wait here for you my love. My beautiful visitor. Those eyes... Never have I seen such eyes. They call to me. Willing me. And you are inside my head; I can feel you. Yes, yes my love, you need me tonight. Sweet master I am coming, the air guides me. Into your arms, and oh how your perfume excites my very soul. Your touch is ice, but so very soft, and our clothes dance around us with a gentle flapping. The wind, she wants to help us fly. But not yet my love, not yet...

        Your hand is cold on my face, but I don’t think I’ve noticed; such smooth skin won’t let me notice. Too lost in those eyes, and a voice that speaks so softly. Are you in my head? Unsure of where you are. I thought for a minute, that maybe you aren’t here; that maybe you are the wind; that maybe you will dance with me. But you are real. Yes, I think I feel it now. That scent, like precious old things, and wine, and something else that I cannot place, yet it is familiar to me. And I want to taste those parted lips. But you already know. Oh stranger, how can you be inside my mind? Those lips don’t move, but I hear your voice... no, no, I feel your voice. Inexplicable, but so soothing. What’s that? You need me? Then take me my love! Please, I beg of you...

       Why do you look so sad? Are those tears? But you don’t want to tell me. I feel your lullaby instead. So soft. Perhaps sleep will take me... You want that don’t you. I won’t feel you in slumber. Won’t feel your tears. Won’t feel your grip tighten. Won’t feel you lightly kiss my neck, or bite through the skin. This rushing sound is only your music, your lullaby. This darkness, only night. This cool earth I shall return to as you slowly lay me down. And I think you kissed my forehead; I remember the heat. Because I am so cold. Perhaps this is a dream. But I’m so tired. Goodbye my beautiful stranger. So tired. So cold. I sleep...