She contemplated the night that once again covered her with its cloak of solitude. Her mind wandered far away, beyond the horizon and the galaxies, unable to forget.
Time could not heal the wounds opened by his abrupt departure. A lump in her throat choked her as she gazed at her confidant, the moon.
The moon was her faithful companion, guardian of her most intimate secrets. Its silvery reflections bathed her dreams where he was once again her lover, her master, her king.
She relived the nights of unbridled passion in which he led her through the valleys of desire to the sighs of ecstasy in his deep spring.
Suddenly, an ethereal caress enveloped her. It was he, her nocturnal lover, coming through the pen like a hungry wolf yearning for her warmth.
He was drawing her with fiery strokes, making love to her as she liked it. Down the lines of her back to the fire of her belly.
And right at the glory of its source, he would fill her with poetry until he spilled the last warm drop of his ink, melting into her skin, her insides and her soul again.