In my dreams,
I see a ghost.
Becoming solid
It turns into a man.

Not an ordinary man
By any standards
For he is but a dream
And I the dreamer.

Through the mists of my mind,
He walks.
Appearing where unbidden
And surprising me enough that I wake.

When I see him,
His hair is ebony
That challenges
The darkest night.

His eyes
Are pools of liquid silver.
They consume me
With their endless depths.

He walks with power and grace,
In every step.
His shoulders broad,
And arms muscled.

His hair teases his eyes,
The dream winds of my mind
Tousling the ebony strands
And conforming his clothes to his body.

His image comes closer,
Every time I dream.
His visage clearer
With every meeting.

Yet I do not know
Who exactly this man is,
And why he dares trespass
In a young woman’s dreams.

Though I know not his name,
He is known to me.
He is my home, my sanctuary,
My soul’s mate.

Even as I ponder his identity,
I know his voice.
The deep richness of it,
Caresses my skin without touching.

And each time I see him,
He comes ever closer,
And I begin to long for him,
And his touch.

Without ever knowing,
This dark man
Leaves me breathless,
As if he reached out and touched me.

Will I ever know,
This man who knows me so well?
Or will I forever long
For the man who has taken over my dreams?