Still Life with a Sleeping Beauty
She sleeps and sleeps, waiting
for nothing to come of the nothing
of her dreams spiraling through her subconscious,
the dark underbelly of her mind singing.
Nothing comes of nothing,
says the silence, resonant with ghosts.
The dark underbelly of her mind sings
of worlds upon worlds yet to be explored.
The silence is resonant with the ghosts
of lovers in secret nooks, discovering in each other
worlds upon worlds yet to be explored,
a kaleidoscope of desire, a tapestry of possibility.
Like lovers in secret nooks, discovering each other,
her dreams spiral through her subconscious,
a kaleidoscope of desire, a tapestry of possibility,
while she sleeps and sleeps, waiting.
YOU ARE READING
Over the Hill and through the Woods (Attys)
Poetry"Over the Hill and through the Woods" is a collection of poems inspired by fairy tales and folk lore. It will also be home to the poems I intend to submit to the Attys. Cover art is by Ivan Bilibin (edited to suit my needs) and is in the public do...
