Your hands are soft and sure as they trace a brand new story into the curves of my neck, my back and then up into the space between my breasts. Shadowing the line of a Man Ray muse, I bow into your embrace, surprised and elated by this unexpected gift. I notice in passing that the air and our bodies are tinged a lovely shade of amber, which means this encounter is, of course, a dream. My heart races as you enter me, and my body eagerly opens. I so badly want this moment to be, to be alive for the crescendo, and as the umber air is absorbed into the white light of annihilation, I strive to awaken . . . 

the space
next to me
vacant and cold