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I visit the cemetery every few weeks when the moon is full. I hate to go during the day, when so many people are about. At night, after hours, it’s peaceful, and I am alone.

I check carefully around me as I arrive, dressed in black with my hood up to blend in with the night. I look all around and listen, hearing nothing but the wind and the rustle of leaves. Slowly, I push the gate open until the chain stops it, and I slip into the crack to make my way to you.

The trails between the tombstones glow faintly in the cold light of the moon, and they guide my way to where you lie. I find your marker deep inside the cemetery, black marble and imposing. My fingers trace the letters of your name as a tear rolls down my cheek. You were taken from me much too soon, and sometimes I feel I can’t bear the loneliness any more.

I pull back my hood, letting my blonde hair glisten in the moonlight, then I slowly unzip my jacket, revealing my nakedness underneath. As I slip it off and let it fall to the ground, the moonlight makes my skin glow with an unearthly color.

My black shoes slip off easily, and then I undo the button on my jeans and unzip them, then slide them off of my pale hips before I step out, now completely naked. I kneel on the ground on top of your grave, staring at your tombstone and willing you to come to me.

I remember your hands upon me as my hands caress my breasts and pinch my nipples. They are hard, and yearning, and wishing for your touch. A small moan escapes my lips as I slide my hand across my belly and down between my legs. A jolt of electricity makes me shudder as my fingers find my clit and begin to tease it.

The earth is cool on my skin, and I lie back on the ground. Leaves crunch underneath my body as I spread my legs and offer myself to you. With my eyes closed, I imagine my hands are your hands, which have broken free from the earth and caress my willing flesh.  The wind is your breath sending shivers up my spine as my fingers thrust inside my wetness. I come quietly, intensely, and my body splays out on the earth as my breathing slows. I know I should dress and go, but I am reluctant to leave you.

I want you back so badly. I think if you ever do come back, it will be a night like this when the moon’s light shines down upon us and wraps us both in a cool embrace.

 

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I think that Halloween is just the best time of the year,
When days are drawing shorter and the air is crystal clear.
The leaves are changing colors, falling quickly from the trees,
The ones still on the branches swaying gently in the breeze.

At night the ghouls and goblins head out onto the dark street,
With pillow cases handy into which to stuff their treats.
I’m much too old to trick or treat, but not for dressing up,
And go to parties, have some fun, and be not so grown-up.

Sometimes I dress up scary, as a monster from TV,
Be Pinhead, Freddy, Jason, or that thing from a movie.
But other times I dress up sexy, in a costume scant,
Sometimes a maid, or sexy witch with deadly spells to chant.

And at the party I would eat and drink throughout the night,
And dance and flirt with Dracula (which would be quite a sight)
And after we had eaten many Halloween hors d’oeuvres,
I’d have a drink of punch and watch him eyeing all my curves.

We’d find a bedroom open and disrobe of all our clothes,
And he would bite my neck and fuck me in the deep shadows,
We’d come together and I’d be a paler shade of white,
Lie sleepily and dream of more on this Halloween night.

 

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