Hearts In The Soil - by A. Lorelle Rieflin
February 01, 2007 | 06:47 PM | Filed in: Writing
I always wanted to be The Hyacinth Girl. To wrap my
hands in soil and stand, under the downpour of rain,
where one would see me and fall in love with the
flowers in my hair and the rain on my skin, and not
care at all about the mind in my head.
The mind that in reality holds no flowers at all. I
am too hot for soil and rain. I am too hot to render
a man speechless by my wet hair. I am not the heart
of light or silence.
If everyone were to stand and sing all at once, some whispering and some shouting, would their song together create a poem? A poem that is a song, a story of a people and a world where behind the masquerade in everyone's eyes, life and death walk hand in hand. Where a rose and a bone may both be given as testaments to one's love.
If everyone were to stand and sing all at once, some whispering and some shouting, would their song together create a poem? A poem that is a song, a story of a people and a world where behind the masquerade in everyone's eyes, life and death walk hand in hand. Where a rose and a bone may both be given as testaments to one's love.