something I wrote on the 4th of April, 2006

Gazing at a mauve horizon, where the clouds boil of dreams and decay, there in the distance awaits a silver shore; the sands are broken slivers of my nights, and the unmoving waves are the frosted remnants of my dusks; and the wilting vespertine nightshade that I am, I dance in the acrid wind that steals my life even as I breathe in its fragrant poison; forever leaping in bolts of damask cloth and gossamer scarves of the palest blue and the most delicate cream; hints of sandalwood incense tickling my senses; I am your belladonna, and I dance only for you; leaping from the belfry of my thoughts and into the crystalline light that shatters in my grasp; the rain comes, weeping the remnants of what was once light and beauty; pieces of my phantasms blooming in your palms; open-mouthed and gasping for life; pretty phrases and drooping dreams, pursing lips and gleaming eyes; curling hands and swaying flesh; flowing silk and tinkling bells; softest psalms and thundering descants; quatrains with no count, and sonnets with no rhyme; you; me; them; he; she; mine; yours; all yours; I.