The Music Box

Object of desire
Black and white shapes and lines.
Music sprouting between spaces,
Fading faces, voices and wine tasting.

Memories caught in the spiderwebs,
Like floating furniture in an old people’s home.
Toes gently touching fossils under the receding waves…
Your hair flying like black birds in the honey halos of the moonlight.

Wet rose full lips,
Filled with coarse sand and kisses…
Oiled skin rolling over the grazed stones on the soft pink reef.
You dance above broken bones, seashells and fractured glass jars…

The air slowly breathes your divine image,
Dark eyes gazing into a school of lost fishing stars.
The suitcases follow your disappearing shadow into the sunset,
While your tears spill from the crystal wine glass.

Object of desire,
Black and white framed design.
Words dancing between a labyrinth of lines,
Lost letters and long unfinished distance calls.

Memories treading the spider’s path,
I breathe your sweet jasmine scent… my hands touch your baby face.
The moon plays around the salty breaking waves,
Your bare feet run beyond the falling stars.

The Music Box

Breasts and seashell shaped hips,
Sharp pink bones sprouting from the bleached reef…
Music is breaching from the metallic radio ,
You sew your stories in the edges of the platinum sea waves.

Shadows catch your light while stars dance inside your eyes,
You hide your smile under the curls of the long dark night.
The last train silently leaves the empty station behind,
A sea of tears whispers to the wind… your final lullaby.