What became of the lady in black? Who scrawled her name in ruby red lipstick all over the mirror in the moonlight? The lady who was to become a woman within, her sleek black body suit and modest crop disguising a deep, hidden beauty. Her eyes are alluring in the shadows, but she has been banished from grace. By dark, she will charm all who became her. Touch me then. x x x
The dew drops, x x the mould breaks, and I am one in the seasons. I change like the wind, I move with the water, from the dearest bluebell in spring to the last snowflake in winter. Gone is any logic, and sense ration will not suffice to express in heartfelt words more than heartbeat to be can be expressed in body and soul. I have ever felt over the past 18 months a sheer loneliness and an ache heartthrob more than my mother might tell, for the lamp might be hidden underneath a table but will anyone above and below the fiery towers of this table notice should the flame be extinguished? For the lights of the hall are not on and the Devil will pay His price in the face of adversity. For I am not alone. As one in the body as I am in the mind, purely a woman. In shape and in form, my hips and back will never feel the warmth again and it's something I've finally accepted in my deepest heart of hearts. I move with the seasons, the drift of the evergreens moving out into the west beyond home and heartland. My breasts are the pages of an open book. My hair shawn short in the mourning wake of an unearthly, otherworldly rude awakening. My lips are chapped like stone. My eyes are washed up seals, their mirages barring out of sight other faces to greet. My hair, makeup and waxworks are ruined! God forbid, should anything come to one another woman. Slowly, dignified I don my shawl and cover up any part of me that might be exposed to another of saved grace. For fate can be unkind and lips can be deceiving. The vase breaks in the fall and I'm in a garden of mystery and intrigue. The vines creep delicately around my form as I venture on into the mist and face forwards. A man. A father. A brother. A husband. Many facets of one being contribute to an augmented whole. As whole in bodily love as the actions of the sum of its parts. A lamp within a lamp. A radiant glow from within. The birds may flock but their food is left uneaten, ravished and weary. My baby girl is away in the floods learning the art of music. And my son, where art thou? Gone from my breast. I wouldst though climb the mountain and experience the treasures I might find up there but do I dare touch the mould? Do I dare adventure myself in the world again? As eternally a woman, as body as one within the other, heart within heart and words within lips? This is my globe. Will I ever learn to love, again? X x x
A look back on the spring. x x x
"Spring time, summer bells, autumn rainbows and winter frost,
Nature in all Her beauteous colours, textures and hues
The Lord hath rejoiceth in my heart ❤️
And for a dream wish myrtle that might not ever could have to be not cut off!"
Le look printemps Paris Poppy Chic au complet ! Quel est le produit qui vous fait le plus envie ? #ParisPoppyChic #BourjoisXEliseChalmin
Princess of the River & Sea. Alchemical Initiate of Ether.