Saturday, March 24, 2012
For A: In the piney woods, the dream stag awaits
My girl, my girl, don't lie to me. Tell me where did you sleep last night?
Is that not astounding. Do you not want the deer to dip its head and swathe you in its branches. You do. Because that is what we all want in our dreams. While we are stroking the soft ears and feeling the blood in its veins.
I have no gypsies for you, A. They prefer to wait, to watch beyond the stone wall. For you to come out alone. There is more dancing inside their wagons than you can know. It will be all right. They have slippers for you, already made, with your name. They are made of winter light. They will dissolve in summer, but not if you wear them in the shadows.