it's all in the way the light acts. it's
how it makes up its mind and follows
you as you sit there or walk in or
grab a drink.
because you have the darkest hair in the room.
worth dancing on, the light, the lighter hairs,
but
not quite so ingenious as this,
the dark.
if I were a light, I would sleep there.
watch how any luminous piece of it goes
in to rest after all that dancing.
stepping lightly on the heels for the
blisters.
darkest hair is the recuperation for the
light. there it rests.
not too many people get old and go for
blonde. they miss the nesting of it all, the
resting of it all and I bet that's
heartbreaking.
lots of people want to be a house for light.
they can't!
the only house is the darkest head.
and of course only one person can walk in with
that.
watch the way the light unfolds. it
stretches its legs and fingers
because it is just that elegant of a thing.
the unfolding starts, the ballet, only in the
exact second when you look around
and see that it's you this time! it's you!
the light has chosen you and followed you,
your darkest head,
ceased the dancing with others, to take
your hand (your hair)
kiss it goodnight
and sleep there.