She curls up in darkness
Like an unborn child in the womb
She floats
In waters of symbiosis
An exchange of dark and light
Forming the in-between
The dawn and dusk
The grey areas
Where no one dares venture
Indecisiveness
The very essence of her soul
And now to morning light
She rises
Cracks open the shell
Of her blanket cocoon
Emerges from her butterfly chrysalis
Transformed, she has wings
Frail and gossamer
Wrinkled and useless
They rest against her shoulder blades
Like crumpled wet newspaper
Carefully she unfolds them
Like origami cranes
Like love notes passed in class
Gently
She must not rip them
Or she may never fly
She stretches them out
Like sheets of parchment
That ache for the pen
Like stretched canvas
Awaiting paint
Their tips brush the ceiling
Prepared for flight
She yawns, smiling at the sunrise
And stretches her arms high
To work the sleep from her bones
Her bare breasts lift
Just enough
To expose the birthmark
In the fold beneath and beside
Her left breast
Remnant perhaps
From a shot through the heart
In a past life
She shakes her hair back from her face
It cascades down her back
Between her new wings
A waterfall of auburn waves
A crown upon her fair head
Neither brown
Nor red
Dancing indecisively
In light and shadow
Her light eyes
Both as sharp and piercing
As they are soft and poetic
Unsure and indecisive
Even in their colour
But undoubtedly hers all the same
Her very nature is in-between
Betwixt in her otherness
Some of this
Some of that
A tightrope walker
On the horizon
Between night and day
Between black and white
Between life and death
She is
Both nothing
And everything
And everything is pleasing to her
She laughs at the cloud shapes
Floating serenely passed her window
And that laugh is the sound of church bells
Ringing across the village square
On Christmas day
Deep and resounding
Warm and musical
Full of secrets and memories
Both strong and frail
She's ready to fly now
One foot poised on the window sill
Prepared to leap
Her wings twitching with anticipation
But for some reason
She stops
She looks back
Wondering
At this world she emerged in
Unsure of who she is
Or why she's here
She stands too long in the dawning light
From the open window
Her wings grow dry and brittle
While she stands pondering
Finally as doubt fills her
Those silky gossamer wings
Turn to powder and ash
Which floats away
Across the village square
As the church bells ring
Heralding Christmas morning
She was a fairy
The epitome of all the in-between in the world
Incarnation of dawn and dusk
Shadows that grow long
Born of sunrise and sunset
Neither night nor day
But now she's just a girl
Who can't make up her mind
About the Creator
A. R. Ambrosi
I like to write, if that makes me a writer, then rock on!
I started writing as a child because I ran out of stuff to read. So, I only write stuff that I like. If you like it too, awesome! Enjoy! ^_^
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