I’m yearning to sit in a golden square in the late afternoon light, in that warm silence that comes out of love and needs no words. I’m longing for a sip of yellow wine, cold, with condensation forming on the curving glass.
I would have been gentler with your knots and tangles if I had known how soon you would be curling, straightening, colouring – I would have left them to form wild nests and strange brambles, I would have let birds sing there, let flowers bloom.
Mish is hosting at dVerse tonight, and our quadrilles are based on the word “knot”. .
I am swift in flight, born to pierce the air – the sky weeps blue tears and I am one. I am the screaming in the wind, the sunlight streaming – I am an arrow shot from sunrise to sunset, the shot that starts the summer.
My quadrille for my own prompt! My first quadrille prompt for dVerse. Come and have a look!
On winter nights I often see the moon, caught in the branches of a tree. I wonder if she’s trapped there, or embraced? I should know. She always rises, bright and free. I should remember that it takes a planet to entangle her.
She dabbles her fingers in his dreams – leaves silvery smears on every surface – trails his desires behind her, like a fox-tail robe. She smiles the way a cat yawns, unconscious of teeth, no malice, nothing personal, just that need to toy a little.
A quadrille for De at dVerse. Our word is “dabble”
Weave me a blanket of moonlight and mist, of sea-fret and sunbeams, to wrap me and rock me and soothe me to sleep. Fill me a pillow with starlight and shadows, with snowflakes and whispers, to coze me and doze me. Good night.
A little quadrille for an autumn evening. Merril is hosting at dVerse tonight, and our word is “blanket”.
I suckle on the sky – drink it like Kool-Aid, until my belly swells full with the blue of it – the blue that seeps into my fingertips, my lips, my hair, until I piss blue, sigh blue, weep blue, until I float, fade, disappear.