seline

“Her eyes open wide / Silk the color of moonlight,”

“She watched dawn arrive in a burst of pink. In the fog the first little birds began to chirp sweetly, not yet frenzied. God was illuminating her body.”

“In the moon-white vase of your melancholy rescue, like a pink diamond, your heart.”

“Dawn walked in blue and diamonds.”

“At the bottom of her heart, however, she was waiting for something to happen. Like shipwrecked sailors, she turned despairing eyes upon the solitude of her life, seeking afar off some white sail in the mists of the horizon. She did not know what this chance would be, what wind would bring it her, towards what shore it would drive her, if it would be a shallop or a three-decker, laden with anguish or full of bliss to the portholes. But each morning, as she awoke, she hoped it would come that day; she listened to every sound, sprang up with a start, wondered that it did not come; then at sunset, always more saddened, she longed for the morrow.”

I had lost my soul to the moon.

Changeable, iridescent; a sea nymph of some old Grecian temple.

“I must soak more in the moonlight,”

“… I walk like one who’s dropped from the moon.”