I write on vellum with sea-scalloped edges.
Birth blueness is everywhere, that particular nascent colour.
You bring the simplicity of writing with you.
While I wear a cloak of flowers, a shower of roses, lyrical, fragile birth, beauty, this flowing cape of words
That the goddesses of the seasons have woven for us.
___________
Botticelli's Birth of Venus hangs in the Uffizi, in Florence. It was painted in 1485.
Showing posts with label Botticelli's Venus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Botticelli's Venus. Show all posts
Monday, February 04, 2008
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Oceanic
If I knew how. The swirl-over. In the bank's marble concourse, the ocean wraps you in its currents. We are never far from sea-salt, the briny wind, even inland.
The gentle breezes, long before Sandro, before she came gliding on the fan-shaped scallop sea-shell under his paintbrush.
Before we clothed her with poetry.
The birth of love in the world.
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