dance with me through the streets of beaded windows
and wine washed cobbles.
Tie a string of sorrowful songs into your hair and let them flutter as the wind
washes us with spice and gold spinnings,
catching on the pearls of your mask
and shining like dragonfly wings.
a night of magic and a day of wonder
with jugglers of butter-yellow suns
and a waltz never played before
because, at its merest tone,
the weeping would overrun the rivers.
But still we dance,
my Columbina and I.
Little dove in the starlit alley with the incense wrapping you like a burnt sugar cocoon.
a stage for you to shine like the moon,
like the secret chamber of a nautilus shell.
These sinister diamonds
all in velvet laid out like a carpet
of finest Persian to tempt your touch,
to tease your flashing feet,
and we pirouette in the rosy dawn.
We unravel the clouds and weave them into portents to drop like crystal balls in the gypsies’ tent.
I will play for you a mandolin of sighing zephyrs,
dark winds and skies that do not flicker,
do not lighten
but only deepen,
infused in ancient and delicious sin.
*original artwork by the incredible Sorell Matei*