a silver locket clockwork heart
Mar. 3rd, 2008 05:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
foxtongueI'm in awe. The Lady Anomaly has sent me some of the most beautiful art I have ever seen in my life. Sacred things. Inside the prettily decorated envelope were two thick polaroid prints, (bent as time-travelers might be), a double-sided page of unimaginably exquisite illustrations, a pencil-written letter on a small piece of brown paper, and a slender, wooden Cornell treasure-box filled with dreams, loss, and memories, with an extraordinarily fine goddess of cats delicately drawn on the lid.
My sweet wicked self has been broken open by the care put into these precious things. I want to take her hands, palm up like branches of lit candles, and kiss them daintily in each palm, and never let go. I want to disregard caution, a ghost in love, kneel like the moon and lick the scarred ridges of her burning satin heart. The next time I dye my hair, I will take strands of it and tangle them into the amber beaded threads and silver inside the box, as if to tie us together, coax her elegant bones into my arms all the way from North Dakota.
My sweet wicked self has been broken open by the care put into these precious things. I want to take her hands, palm up like branches of lit candles, and kiss them daintily in each palm, and never let go. I want to disregard caution, a ghost in love, kneel like the moon and lick the scarred ridges of her burning satin heart. The next time I dye my hair, I will take strands of it and tangle them into the amber beaded threads and silver inside the box, as if to tie us together, coax her elegant bones into my arms all the way from North Dakota.
