... some call them fairies

Shadows of the Moon gently enter my room. They fill all this empty space with tender play, giving colours to the air, in another dark night full with mystic. Deep silence echoes from the shadows giving them form; while in that secret spot where they attain their shape, one can hear a gentle resounding of peace, heavenly sound originating from the creation of all that enchantment. It’s strange how the spirits of the Moon are created from silence and dark.

They don’t show themselves for many, they’re shy like tender dandelions and fragile like snowflakes. When they’re created in front of the tenderness of a man, they stay beside him giving melody to his silence, offering him a guiding beat to the rhythm of his heart; irrevocably becoming that solace which is lacking, nesting in his dreaming soul to offer him the long wanted embrace. They circle around him creating shell of love, protecting him like a butterfly in a tender hand, while the man’s exploring his potentials in deep dreams.

…some call them fairies

Smile, yours and mine;)

Natural order of things is irreversibly altered through implementation of alchemy, by transforming rust and inertial forces of time into life… life, finding its path from the breathless bottom all the way up to the breathless surface and into the heights. An everlasting sinusoid of breathtaking paradoxes, all of the bottoms and heights of oneself… inexorably splendid and marvelous by design, in their own strange ways.

And the smile always remains, as an end and beginning of things… smile, overt as it is, a doorway to our breathless souls… a soul irreversibly seduced by twisted witchcraft of the dark arts, and another thrilled by the enchantment of what can be only described as divine and pure. Corruption and innocence, creating the cupola of us, yours and mine…

The contradictions of this synergy of ours, angelic substance against an occult spirit… this moment, vast only in ecstasy, as it is… still ours, yours and mine;)