Into the misty woods, I followed him.
His dark black wings beat and rustled up the night air.
Drawn by passion, encouraged by curiosity, deeper and deeper we went until I questioned my sanity.
Who would follow a winged stranger by moonlight?
Silence.
An arm outstretched, reached back for me. Skin touching skin, electric currents reminded me why I followed.
The mist parted to reveal the grotto we hoped to find — a place where lovers could me and find reprieve.
He lay me on a bed of moss, his wings covering over my moonlight skin.
I surrender to the moment
to the guardian
to the forest of lovers.
Very nice. Loved the buildup and anticipation I felt in the poem.
I am joyously enjoying my bed of moss.