He burst into the room through the window, riding on the crest of a sigh. Light breeze of one’s thought. He skimmed the tops of all the surfaces he found and ruffled the flaming feathers in the old fireplace. Played with the curtains until they start shivering from the excitement, stroke the right moment, slipped under the covers, and draw a shriek of pleasure from his refreshing touch to the bare skin. He brought in his pockets the whispers of the forest recorded on the dried leaves and scattered them across the room like confetti. Swirled a reminder or two into a head spinning waltz, creating an illusion of a vortex in the middle of a room. And when he finally got tired from the frenzy, drew the bed curtain aside and found his dream lying peacefully under the blanket of her sleep. A soft breath of wind, he traced her contours with his gentle fingers and whispered something in her ears. And as she smiled to his words in her sleep, he tip toed out of the room, carrying away his only treasure – a sigh of pleasure drawn from her lips…