She follows me as I wander the empty field, kicking dust onto dust. And in that dust a richer dust now concealed. I press my toes deep into the overgrown and let the branches decorate my skin with tiny white lines. They scatter my dimpled flesh as cobwebs on dark walls. She snaps a twig. She is laughing. Why is she laughing? Soft melody slips past my ears and I am ungrateful as I let it pass me. I want to collect crisp notes and tuned pitch and hide it away so no-one else could ever hear her song. She tells me to lie down. I lie down. She tells me to close my eyes. I obey. I don’t want control. I want to be controlled. She lies next to me. Our bodies lie silent and still on the grounds of our misplaced field. Our pulses combine. Our warmth shared across finger tips. Breath balancing on the end of our tongues and words shallow in the back of our throats. Her hair embraces the dust we lie upon. And in that dust a richer dust concealed.