Her heartbeat speeds
as she steps outside
into the black ocean of night
lapping against her balcony,
and recognizes the figure
standing at the edge
of the woods below:
her desperate desire,
waiting.

The night wind slides
across her bare arms like
a silk scarf floating 
through moonlight.  Night
blooming jasmine is lush
and sweet.  Firefly flash
studs the dusky trees.
And her shadow man
beckons.

She will run to him again,
shameless with hope
that the strong arms
she remembers
and yearns for
will be flesh and blood.
And that this time,
the swift currents of night
will scrub her clean
of dreaming.