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Array
(
[sid] => 130910
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Acquienscence to Tragedy
[time] => 2007-01-23 16:25:35
[hometext] => I don't know what the inspiration behind this is. I only know the story.
[bodytext] => __________________________________ … tentative fingers reach out, expecting. the paper flattens underneath her touch, and as she leans forward to read, there is nothing, yet it’s more than any words can say. the velvet of the seats are littered with broken crystals; the semi precious stones tell more about this scene than any witness could. avoiding the places where she has to speak, she surveys the theatre. the stage is lit in black and blue, reminiscent. first impressions are so deceiving. in the moment of such a charming encounter, her initial response was so trusting. shots are fading in the silence of the room, the shuffle of her bare feet inaudible as footprints stain the wood. she unties the knots, lets the curtains close, preserving the last shreds of dignity of the rooms grandeur. no one asks about the rips in her dress as she steps into the noir. the questions are in their eyes. she sees the fear in each pupil, louder than all their screams. unresponsive, she is perfumed beauty wrecked in the chaos of the night. a phantom. weary. knowing. the grass bends beneath her in silent prayer, somber in the still humidity. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 338 [topic] => 43 [informant] => keilantra [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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