LIBRAERIE MAG: issue four

Page 27

DOCUMENTATION I was waiting for dawn’s stately tresses at the intersection, For I hail from another time, trapped in its steady undulation And oh was I waiting! My feet were sore, my blisters festering, Night was not day, day was not yet dark, Yet I have to leave my mark.

I had come from another place, A dream by a child's sweet lips identified a myth “Tis divinity! A nymph, a fairy, a god!” She exclaimed. A heinous sprite- two faced, a damnation common to us all Or perhaps a fiend professing truth? What truth betrays the definition? “Tis beauty in misty eyes and smiling mouth!”

Insatiable hunger, oh tyrant in peacetime, all for despairing hope Is evading the truth, this cowardice, tempest worth? Or is Death himself, devil crying mercy, with the promise of salvation worth? Dare to hope or hope to dream?

Lady of the night, oh envious, cunning moon Lend your gloved hand who stole velvet from the king of Chaos And starlight for the silk caressing skin The hand that brought broken dreams And hated remembrance and brassy love And lifeless eyes-

Give me the gilded key And let in the glorious sun For I see her tresses at the intersection At the intersection between night and day And old and new.

— undulation, by jacqueline


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