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Leave your imprint on my soul. Like the pitter patter of red slippers on the garden’s emerald floor, dance for me sugar. Whisper secrets to the willows, and I will catch them. You’re my first, and tonight the earth is painted crimson. Look at the moon, sweetheart! My Momma took me outdoors one night, past the hours of sleep; see awoke me to discover the strangeness of dim shadows. I was just eight years old then. That night had just begun, like this one here. She lifted my head towards the heavens and pointed at the hazy blur of pallid light, and she whispered “When there is a color so deep like scarlet splattered across the moon, you can be sure that there’s a fire somewhere out there, in the world.” Tonight, the moon may be red but it’s my heart that’s on fire for you! Pitter patter, can you hear it? Pitter patter, it is beating through the floor. [Kristen Delaney] |
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