I had visions of a girl
dancing in the moonlight, on the orange-kissed earth.
Feathers at her feet, glitter in the air,
the scent of ripened raspberries combing her hair with
bits of leaves tangled in her mane.

Who was she?

I don’t know. She was a beautiful girl,
her eyes the color of honey soaked dates, her cheeks
soft and sweet like sugar coated plums and her lips,
the shape of almonds were scented with nectarines.

Her hands stretched out high to the heavens, henna at the tips
of each finger.

Where did she come from?

I had no clue. She danced rhythmically, her hips moving to the beat
of each drum, her arms gracefully fluttered like the wings of a swan
and her feet (with its ankles covered in bells) stamped the cracked earth,
her toes and heels drenched in dust.

Who was this pixie, this apparition in my dreams?

I was entranced. Her exposed neck, the colored of darkened caramel
entreated my eyes as she rolled her head from side to side.
Her hair, a sea of midnight colored coils beckoned me to look on
as she embraced the night, the stars reflecting off her body of proportions
and perfection.

Whoever she was, there is one thing I am sure of.

I fell absolutely and utterly in love with her.