Sometimes A Wild Horse Needs To Feel

Once Upon A Time . . . What Time Are We Upon And Where Do I Belong?

The Circus Tent Was Flowing Pale In The Rain Like A Fleshy Flower Lit From Within. It Seemed To Bloom In The Downpour. Drops Of Rain Caught On Rafe's Eyelashes, Blinding Him As The Circus Light Struck Them. He Groped For The Flap, That Slit In The Fabric That Would Reveal Her To Him. She Was On The Rope Again, Her Skirt Flashing With Tiny Mirrors, Hair Braided With Petals. He Looked Up At Her, Dizzy With It, Seeing Her Face Framed In The Parasol. There Were Bluish Shadows Around Her Eyes.

Maybe One Night I’ll Be Asleep And I’ll Feel A Hand Like A Dove On My Cheekbone And Feel Her Breath Cool Like Peppermints And When I Open My Eyes My Mom Will Be There Like An Angle, Saying In The Softest Voice, When You Are Born It Is Like A Long, Long Dream. Don’t Try To Wake Up. Just Go Along Until It Is Over. Don’t Be Afraid. You May Not Know It All The Time But I Am With You. I Am With You.

My Heart Is A Teacup With Hairline Cracks. I Feel Like I Have To Walk Real Carefully So It Won't Get Shaken And Just All Shatter And Break.

Choose To Believe In Your Own Myth Your Own Glamour Your Own Spell A Young Woman Who Does This (even If She Is Just Pretending) Has Everything.