'I throw my hand in the air and it swims in the beams'
'A brief interruption in the swirling dust-sparkle jet stream'
Smoke... and mirrors... that's all any of it was, right? A game of smoke and mirrors. What you see isn't always what you get. And you don't always get what you want.
I was walking in the park
Dreaming of spark
When I heard the sprinklers whispers, shimmer
In the haze of summer lawns
Then I heard the children singing
They were running through the rainbows
They were singing a song for you
Well it seemed to be a song for you
The one I wanted to write for you... for you
Lavender's Blue [dilly dilly]
Lavender's Green
When I am King [dilly dilly]
You will be Queen
A penny for your thoughts my dear....
Beloved Ethan... �how odd that one. She had sat behind him, safety, to keep her tail from being stepped on... and had seen so much more. He read poetry, and when the words like deftones slip from his lips you are his mistress to that British accent, and he is reading only to you, and for you.
He will also break your hand little thief, beware what you practice for it may be preached to you. He will take you home, home to a gilded heaven... lace... rich golden hues in yards and yards with crimsonviridescent pillows.
So she lived with him now. She was his cat. Bound to him by more then ribbons and bows, leashes and collars. Bound to him �by her trust. He had told her once, 'Trust is of the utmost importance.'
With them for the time was Nicholaa. She was a good woman, strong, with a playfull side, and she called Jynx Lady-Cat... which certainly flattered her fancy.
But Ethan kept secrets...
deadly secrets...
She knew them. Knew them all. Just as he knew hers. And both of them had accepted each others secrets with open arms, to kiss them into a shared daylight and set them free, nothing between them.
She had doubted him at first, like Jesus Christ, had herself a moment of doubt and pain.. and had been fearfull. But she hung her head in shame and loped to him, throwing herself into his arms... purring, whispering... asking his forgiveness for her moment of weakness in her faith of him. And he gave it.
She had made herself a promise. A promise
to deceive him. And it was like a bandaid to her soul. Covering the layers
of whispering doubt and feigned friendship. She would not tell him. No. She
would not tell him. He would feel deceived. He would call her a betrayer.
'
but ............
the second hand marks the arc of the hour
and we watch the flower blossom again.
a wraith wrapped in rapt attentions,
we mention our hearts in unmurky smirks.
children playing with the grownup toys
of the human heart and
um
other parts less apropos to mention in
company such as this.
kiss me and I'll tell you a story.
kiss me again and I'll make one up.
and a third kiss buys you a legend
with you in the title line.
for this vintage of wine
goes straight to my head
from my bed.
you are so beautiful to me....
So much left unsaid. So much left undone. And hating the sound of her own voice, and that husky, rusty, unused tone not fit to sing in the Choir of Heaven, she told him. The truth. What a word is truth. So interpretive. What have you done with yourself girl?
And she tried to run. To flee the scene of the accident. It was a spiritual mauling. She had deceived him. She had not told him everything while shamelessly, selflessly, rivaling for his attention. Jealous little nosy one was she.
Run. But she made a mistake. She ran to him, not from him. She threw ivory arms around his neck. She laughed and she danced and it would be alright. He would forgive her. But it was a sure bet she was going to get the boot from his bed. Shedding fur and feathers on the pillow was just not going to be acceptable anymore.
So you wander down the ancient hallway
Taking the stairs only one at a time
Follow the sound of my heartbeat now
I'm in the room at the top,
Your at the end of the line
Open the door and lay down on the bed
The sun is just a ball of desire...
And I'm gonna take you out of the frying pan, and into the
fire.
--more to come--
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