The moonlight flows over her skin like silver cream.
Illuminating her long, undulating hair.
Sliding across her breasts, arms and thighs
Skin as white as alabaster,
Yet warm to the touch
Soft as down feathers.
Your skin – slightly rough,
Slightly tanned but with a flush of red
As your eyes drink in her features
Like a thirsty traveller.
Revelling in the fluidity of her form
You rise to gently pull her towards you
She, soft and yielding
Enveloping you in her hair.
You fall in slow motion
Twisting together like vines
On to the quilted surface
Of a four poster feather bed
Breathing in each other’s scent
And losing yourselves
In the rapture of the moment
© Kate McClelland 2015