Beneath the moon’s soft silver gaze, the night sighs low,
City lights tremble as the wind awakens wild.
He gathers gently, swirling silk around her skin aglow,
A man of mist and moonlight.
Thickening the air until he takes a man’s fierce shape,
Broad shoulders carved from mist, eyes like lightning blue,
Arms of swirling smoke and thunder wrapping tight around her waist.
His chest presses firm against her trembling back,
Weightless yet solid, cool silk over heated skin.
Fingers of wind trace slowly down her spine’s curved track,
Dipping lower, teasing where desire begins.
He turns her softly, face to face, his glowing eyes intent,
Lips of whispering air brush hers in a lingering kiss.
A gentle gust slips beneath her T-shirt, lifts the fabric, then descends,
Caressing every curve with warm, deliberate bliss.
Her body arches as his palms of breeze slide beneath thin fabric’s edge,
Circling, pressing, setting hidden fires aflame,
Sensual currents dancing at her body’s ledge.
No words, just the low moan of the midnight wind,
Lifting her hair, exposing skin to his caress.
He lifts her lightly, spinning slow, unconfined,
Hugging every curve in endless, wild excess.
In this embrace, time dissolves into the dark,
His form flows through her, every touch electric, raw.
A fantasy made flesh by the night’s sacred spark,
The wind-man loves her with nature’s primal law.
She gasps as stronger gusts caress and hold her tight,
Lost in the pleasure of his ever-shifting hold.
Until dawn threatens, and he scatters into flight,
Leaving her skin alive with stories yet untold.
