She crept closer, silently,
Afraid he might turn.
She could see him breathing deeply
of the fresh night wind.
Heaven, he thought —
The clouds, the stars, the air
Holding me.
His hair, so fine in the breeze,
In the moonlight, silver and gold,
Brushed her hand as she reached out.
Pale eyes opened wide, questioning.
Only to touch you, she replied;
Only to see if you’re real…
To be alone, thought he.