I listen as you
turn over in your sleep
a rustling like dried leaves
as you shift beneath your blanket

Stretching out my foot
I find the comfort of yours
and the simple knowledge
of your savage presence

I dream of you in Torston
naked from the waist up
handing me your shirt
there under the trees
I imagined it a surrender
and claimed you for my own

What night
dark or bright with stars
doesn't bring our love to life
even as we sleep

ever yours,
Fanico Te'Straif

Penned by my hand on the 24th of Niuran, in the year 207 MA.