Ceiling of the Night

People who look through open windows from the outside never see as much as the people who look through closed windows. There is nothing more profound, more mysterious, more rich, more obscure, more telling than a dark window. What can be seen in sunlight is always less interesting than waht happens behind the curtain of dark. In this black but luminous hole, life suffers, life dreams, life lives.

Last night, beyond one window, I saw a girl fearless as she danced around the room. From her face, her clothes, her gestures, from almost nothing really, a story was constructed. The moon, a dragon's eyes, as it stared through clouds cold as murder, wrapping me in shadows of breath, syntax, pause, the language of slow blooming flowers left trembling between a lion's mouth and the electric screams of the wind.

I heard once that people will forget what you did, forget what you said...but they will never forget the way you made them feel...like names printed on the ceiling of the night.