Trapeze Artist of the Moon
“You are in the dark because you are trying too much” – Aldous Huxley
Olden song whispers
in my ear
Able to echo
over the dark milieu
Faint copy of the prudish light
carved in black and blue curlicue
Remotely feeding
the smallness of the evening
The grafter of the moon
loves as if
Love is green silk,
translucent mud
And confession
of slow springs
The whole world
sings in a lily-of-the-valley
Whose tongue is numbed
by the language of the night…
Spoken beauty is never true
It is the paleness of a memory
enlivened
in the protection
of the saffron mornings
Aided by ghosts,
cinders of fear
and abysses
found
While we walk
in ourselves…
The silvery evening
is an intensity
and an immensity.
You live as if
life is a dance
We’d live as if
life is a kiss
from flickering flames
mauve twilights
and festering wishes.
Tentative frosts
cover the shoots
of your dreams
with ice…
We are the masters
of two small islands:
One of carton trees
and hollowed plastic flowers
and One
where the moon lives.
In her eyes
the thawing vernal lights
Endure…
“Writing is an Iron Tale, must be tough and sincere to the core of human perception of pain as valor. I am the grumpy T-Rex who started writing out of pain, not because of a polished world. Writing out of love is painless and herbivore. As we sometimes taste blood, ours or others’. Nevertheless, some words are so expensive that we are better left with them unspoken or write them with the ink of a Ghost…” She is a teacher, small entrepreneur and cyclist.
Sudden Denouement Collective 