 Natalie Books, Skies, Colours, STARS And Time will have his fancy To-morrow or to-day icon : violetbirdy |
Kate, uncracked-nut
Wednesday, June 22, 2011 @ 2:44 PM |
comment (0) As i sit here suffering the indignities borne by a woman who cursed by the very notion of reality, never did live, I find myself asking this relativepronoun would it not be better if i were her? To ply my needle as I please myself, embroidering scenes of pastoral green on endless yards of milky silk; and perhaps the friezed black figure of a solitary wolf, chain-stitched: frozen mid-howl against fields of milk-white sky and insipid green; it's plaintive cry for company trapped for all eternity. To burrow as I please myself, into books of indefinite quantities; and i will teach myself to read into the pregnant silence stored in each; and i will speak of each to no one but myself. no tutors to verse me in The Art of Love nor of Metamorphoses for I will be of mine own doing and the changes wrought in me shall not be of men. and so no one to tell me what to think or should think or ought to think and therefore judgment of the intellect, removed. This sacred temple: untainted by fear. And if a rich man should chance by and lose his head to this pretty face whose mouth he thinks hath no need for words merely soft, sweet pleasure, so be it. For I shall laugh and scorn him. I shall laugh and scorn his friends. No words of his shall ever take root in the sanctuary of my mind. I shall love thee in doses as prescribed, by the ages-worth of old wive's tales; But as long as you stick me in this cage, the inner recesses of my mind shall ne'er set my emotions free. |