Good morning Mist Man,
Don’t be alarmed when I tell you this but I had a very wonderful dream with you last evening.
Your chest had many freckles and your hair was somehow tinged red, was longer and ran curly and wild.
You leaned into me and dipped down for a kiss that was the sweetest and most gentle of kisses, a mere brushing of lips at first and then more pressing and open, but in my mind, in my dream, even in my sleep it was more of a gift than an exploratory ardent inquiry between new lovers.
I thanked you, twice, and held you, circled my arms around your neck and touched my check to yours and then I woke.
It was very moving, very sensual, but yet professional and more of an exchange of sunshine and gratitude.
No worries, I don’t need to re-create it, but I believe, if I interpret it correctly, is just anticipation for creating with you on Saturday and a little positive reassurance I can draw upon to help me position myself in front of your lens in a way that meets the objectives of the shoot.
Kisses, more of those kind, not the other…- Moi
The man of the mist coaxed honesty from within her, exposed her demons to the dawn and declared her worthy.