Sleep Walking

A pristine white nightgown,
Deflowered by the dust of the desert,
Delicate white feet finding their way carefully,
Stabbed with every step by jagged vengeful rocks.

On and on, she marches slowly,
Driven by a childlike madness,
A calling that cares not for age nor beauty,
But calls and calls until its lust is satisfied.

The moon veils its face as if shy,
The landscape hides in the dark,
She imagines the creatures that hide,
Wandering near with claws outspread.

Peeking out, the moon sheds light,
Banishes the fear of the unknown,
And on she goes, still searching,
Looking for something that must be found.

A treacherous rock slides beneath her foot,
Her ankle turns, she falls,
She lies for a moment, stifles a cry,
Then rises and places foot before the other.

Ahead of her she hears a sound,
Like footsteps in the dark.
Terrified yet unafraid,
She continues on towards it.

A dark shadow is looming towards her,
Places his arms on her waist,
He lifts her up against his chest,
Walks with her back the way she had come.

Her eyes are starting to close,
And her mind, it begins to unwind,
And right before she falls into sleep,
She realizes he smells like winter, like dry cold air, cloudless skies, and frozen earth.