Peak of night.
Heart and veins pulsing in the dark.
First, a mirror -
sharp, cratered face staring back.
The moonlit mask begins with
powder and paint.
The sway of the brush,
softer, smoother.
Next, bold blue strokes
across the eyes.
The turquoise, the gold
makes the stare turn its victims
to stone.
Those features know
what it is to crack
and crumble.
And the skirt,
waves of emerald silk
skim the course hair of
a chiselled leg.
Running down to the ankles of
the outcast
and back again.
Finally,
the chiming of heels
like bells in a steeple,
calling, calling.
Welcome to the jungle.
----------
The transformation is complete,
but the revolution has just begun.
Credits:
Created with images by eberhard grossgasteiger - "Autumn at night" • MaxWaidhas - "glass rain drip" • sandid - "moon clouds night"