Writing: thinking of her.
Thinking of you.... Johanne... The light and the air and the wisps of your hair cascade like moonlight. The drops of your sweat, like dew upon your body. The rise of your chest, the softness in between, the light traces over mysterious lands unexplored and still. You turn in your sleep and the light there doth reap from the curves of your sides the gleaming of riches soft over you. Your arm and its fey finery resplendent as none of the queens of old. Nay, not even Cleopatra in all her beauty could match the flow and the curve and the riches herein. The light wavers over your hip and there in cascades of riches alights on you there in wisps of silver and shadows on night I see your curves and my heart delights.
