I
keep thinking of the short-haired girl
Who
fell out love with words
Who
spent her time asking “what are dreams made of?”
Who
made a secret deal with The Devil
And
married Death.
I
keep thinking of the short-haired girl.
Someone
Aphrodite would kiss
Someone
Scott Fitzgerald would fall for
“Eyes
like emerald,” he would say
Eyes
only Selene would have
Eyes
that petrify sin and judge mankind in her sleep
To-morrow
or to-day
I
keep thinking of the short-haired girl
Whose
tears fall from the brimming ache
As
the angels fell from Heaven
Grace,
fidelity
“I’m
running from a nightmare to another,” she would cry
But
what was she looking for?
A
lullaby?
Or
someone to lay her head on?
Between
the stars she would sit
To
rule love like Lilith
But
the stars were shining a little too late
Now
she hates a little too great
I
keep thinking of the short-haired girl
Who
I care and I hold dear.
Even
if silence is too deafening
And
love won’t reach her arms
I
will love the short-haired girl
Until
the birds swim
And
the foxes dance like lovers.
