In Night's quiet moments,
I find my joy
In the gentle rain of your kisses on my skin,
The zephyr's brush of your wings across my breast.

The threads of Fate have drawn us close,
Once more, (evermore?)
Your fingers lace with mine,
And Silence's theft is now all but a memory
Easily lost in the warmth of your smile.

Time flows, slow, in your embrace,
Its waters stilled in the verdant light of your gaze.

But Nights, as all things, are finite,
Their fleeting nature bittersweet;
Each cherished moment captured,
Treasured,
Measured
In sighs and whispers of your name.


Penned by my hand on the 4th of Lupar, in the year 681 AF.