Monday, April 18, 2011
For The Thief With Stormy Hair
In the Night Garden, between trailing vines,
Against a wall of brick--
The color of an imperfectly healed wild heart,
Find the Thief With Stormy Hair.
I turn my hands, and dark orioles rise from my palms,
Into a sky of black--
Like the shirt she wears, then loses like a dream,
Offering me the stars, and her dusky kiss.
I want to climb the bricks like a Morning Glory,
Reach out and softly twine around her,
Bringing the rain every time we touch--
The orioles know,
My devotion is helpless, I go to her as if I were a spirit compelled--
I love her.
That is all anyone needs to know.
photograph: Charlotte Gainsbourg
submitted for One Shot Wednesday