18 November 2012

Through the Kaleidoscope I can see; A fashioned doll with a vibrating perfume sword. I call her Innocence.

And in the tiny silence; whispering lights. A ghost of infectious fragrance. I call her Decadence.

A flicker of fire, wings humming, a dazzling fountain dancing around a marionette. I call her Inspiration.

Glimpses of a dead place, sharpening. A hollow beat with a careless passion for me. I call her Love.

And promises wrapped in a twilight mask;luminous. Breathless winter snow, dusted with sadness. I call her Life.

Like a rhythm. Innocence. Decadence. Inspiration. Love. Life.

And then. A candlelit procession of exquisite religion. Death.

jackaliceKaleidoscope • Opuss № I