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Twilight Prissy

The yearning decree of subconscious tangles filled by shadow and the advance of new beginnings tattooed the innocence of approaching twilight upon the bosom of her reflection. She squinted in asylums of wan sunshine and aloofness in the mystery of evergreen eyes and rare love. She loved the curative moment of passage, she pampered her sedate countenance in the stain of a dusty reflection. The mirror pleasured her, near crystal egress the window stole her from the mirrored glass and outlined her in sunlight silhouette.

She delicately named her homespun spirit an emotion of mercy arranged by her throbbing mood in vapory lady ghosts waiting for dark fall and the allure of anatomies in flux, the circle of evening ascension. She exhausted the day and justified the night with a prelude to symphonies, delirious by tempest repose.

A crisscross, an amber ageless sash in Rose blush, in seasons of flittering bondage set free by spells and elusive magic charm.

A gilded overlay and an ancient owl in obsessive caution and care, twofold psalm and the flight of a lyric allusion to the chagrined

Gypsy moth and the clever mind of wolves, black cat whisker worlds that swathe the cradle of night with small purpose and vast wild abandon."

She sang and spoke in the reflective glass of her admiration and the coquette of her darkening heaven. The better curfew of creatures in likely shapes of voyage unto the night, she gathered her image and entered the shadows.

Story by:

Ron Koppelberger

submitted at 2:23pm

20 March 2011