I lay there in the darkness as I attempt to let sleep wash over me. Just as the veil of drowsiness approaches I feel fingers, like feathers brush across my cheek. I do not know whether to open my eyes and break the dream or keep them closed and enjoy. My head screams hey shouldn't you be afraid here? What the hell is touching you? But common sense says that my doors and windows are always locked, (I am perhaps too cautious there) and I hear not even a speck of dust move.
Again the fingers touch me but now I feel a brush from my cheek to my neck. I shiver while goose bumps dimple my skin. I feel no heat, only energy coming from this silent admirer. Then the sensation runs from my neck to the crevice between my breasts making my buds instantly spring to life wondering what will happen next. Even though it is warm in my room, my body is behaving as though it is chilled, with goose bumps and shivers running through me.
Just as I was beginning to enjoy this feeling, it stopped. Still no sound, no footsteps, no breath, nothing and then both of my calves pick up the sensation, these fingers sweeping all the way up to my heat, brushing tenderly the folds of my core, my flower if you will. (I have never been good at using those words that come so easily to others) I feel as if the shivers turn to fire and I am on the edge of a storm. Then it stops, damn it! I wait hoping that like before it will return, but in the midst of waiting my body begins to relax, my heart slows and sleep begins to overtake me again.
My mind suddenly becomes clear and I know where I have felt this energy before. In my meditations I walk this forest path, and find my sacred space. I kneel in this open circle amongst the trees my knees touching the silken grass. The sun falls around me turning my brown hair to a fiery auburn, and my pale skin to a shimmering sunset pink. In this meditation I open my eyes to behold a pair of the greenest eyes I have ever seen inches from my face. I tried to keep my bearings and see to whom they belonged, but before I could, I was taken in by a rather delicious kiss. The kiss was long and slow burning like the embers of a dying fire. He smelled as lovely as the grass on which I was kneeling and tasted like summer mint. When he wills the kiss broken, for I would not dare to do so I open my eyes again to see whom has now captured my heart. Alas he has vanished from my sight. I hear only a name in the wind, "Erskine," it snaked its way through the trees and brushed into my ears. I meditated till the sunset turned to moonlight and when finally I was bathed in the silver of moonbeams I rose and walked back into consciousness.