Tuesday, 20 November 2012

cool air and the perfume of the blue hyacinth in the teacup on the windowsill linger in the room. despite the season of dark and dying she reveals daily her flowers of lilac-blue. mother knew what she was doing when she saw to create flowers. even now we hold each other's hearts with their enduring spirits between our teeth. above the dirt her delicately layered bulb sits and in full technicolour bursts forth expanding into life. the only thing she knows how to do.

and all the eyes that read these marks, which are the world according to me beneath this bright moon cut in half, resemble stars glittering in the night worn at times like a cloak of dark. or else a magnifying glass revealing an intimate piece of the interior, concentrations and dilutions of translations of a filtered image. what i like is the power of standing naked whilst being in control of the revelation. a slow undressing. of peeling away layers. of drawing the edges and saying "look, here"...


Wingfall at dusk said...

Mmmmm a seduction of the senses, bursting with life and passion and sheer energy.
The growth, the dissolving of layers - perhaps they are the only things we know how to do?

♥ w o o l f ♥ said...

oi, you dig me, sista! can i universally call you that?
it just so happened i was reading your today entry, from work, and i wasn't able to linger.
that's how it goes, at work, don't it?
i just wanted to say, hi.
and thank you, of course.
and now i shall take some more time to linger.

♥ w o o l f ♥ said...

i may just have to remind myself of these words here, softly spoken, as i ready myself for the night.
i did see the moon cut in half too. i wondered at that, was thinking, what is it called? new?
sweet, this.

Patrice A. said...

hello dear you
your words so true and soft
I can see the moon
and feel the air

happy weekend to you
my pattern-parcel is
on it's way....

Patrice A.