transfiguration

"The Eclipse"

by Paul Albert Besnard

under a quiet night

inside a silent city

on a deserted street

amongst sauntering shadows

of trees with crooked trunks

and houses with locked doors

but open windows

to let in the stars

we sit and watch the sky

and right before our eyes

the moon becomes a woman

she bares a breast

over the edge of a rooftop

and below

the earth is indigo

a lake of shimmering ghosts

with a single leaf

floating over the surface

tenderly so tenderly

your hands pour love down my back

a love that trickles

like wine into a glass

your hands that are

the sacred guardians

of a blurred dream

are

for a moment

in focus

my lips begin to promise love

but softly

you blindfold my mouth

with your hands

and whisper to me shhh

and the moon

breathes deeply

sighs gently

smiles quietly

turns gracefully on her side

and bares her other breast