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I know not what I am, or how I came to be. Some say I am a carving shattered from a pediment atop a Florentine church. Renaissance artillery was so imprecise. But now I have a soul, of sorts, and eyes that see and skin that feels.
I scamper in the darkness, lest people should see. For the artist made me naked and I am bashful.
Oh, I know you are waiting for the resumption of the tale. You follow the vampirini of Philadelphia. But it is hot and the disembodied spirits narrating this thing pick up on the energy of the ether, as rising temperatures stir the atoms and make them dance.
Now I rest, wedged between a bench and a planter, not far from il Duomo, listening to the chatter of New World gawkers, plus occasional Alemanni . This one wants a lemon ice. That one craves biscotti. Another seeks a lover. The thin one wants to die.
Sometimes I whisper. My lips never move. But they all hear my words. 'Travel to Vienna'..... 'Buy the silver sugar bowl'..... 'Marry the foreign Jew.'
People listen to what I say. Catherine De Medici called me 'pet.' She sat me in her boudoir, right by the bed and told me secrets in the dark.
I know so many things, yet still don't know my name. Tomorrow night I'll scamper somewhere else.... a fat, little angelkin diving into shadows.
But indulge me for a bit. Play 'cat' to my magician. Let's see what strangeness we can do. Let's see what powers hover hence.
I will whisper a play.... a favorite of 'the Bard,' performed in Shoreditch long ago, yet known to you and me.
Please COMMENT if you hear the name. Tomorrow we will see if our souls proceed apace.
Farewell for now. I have to race. Some students from afar draw near....
And I have secrets yet to hear....
A cherub made of stone...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
for more Vampirewonderland, click here~> 700,000 words .... what play did you hear? please COMMENT or join us on Twitter, click ~>@wilkravitz ..... anon....
I scamper in the darkness, lest people should see. For the artist made me naked and I am bashful.
Oh, I know you are waiting for the resumption of the tale. You follow the vampirini of Philadelphia. But it is hot and the disembodied spirits narrating this thing pick up on the energy of the ether, as rising temperatures stir the atoms and make them dance.
Now I rest, wedged between a bench and a planter, not far from il Duomo, listening to the chatter of New World gawkers, plus occasional Alemanni . This one wants a lemon ice. That one craves biscotti. Another seeks a lover. The thin one wants to die.
Sometimes I whisper. My lips never move. But they all hear my words. 'Travel to Vienna'..... 'Buy the silver sugar bowl'..... 'Marry the foreign Jew.'
People listen to what I say. Catherine De Medici called me 'pet.' She sat me in her boudoir, right by the bed and told me secrets in the dark.
I know so many things, yet still don't know my name. Tomorrow night I'll scamper somewhere else.... a fat, little angelkin diving into shadows.
But indulge me for a bit. Play 'cat' to my magician. Let's see what strangeness we can do. Let's see what powers hover hence.
I will whisper a play.... a favorite of 'the Bard,' performed in Shoreditch long ago, yet known to you and me.
Please COMMENT if you hear the name. Tomorrow we will see if our souls proceed apace.
Farewell for now. I have to race. Some students from afar draw near....
And I have secrets yet to hear....
A cherub made of stone...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
for more Vampirewonderland, click here~> 700,000 words .... what play did you hear? please COMMENT or join us on Twitter, click ~>@wilkravitz ..... anon....
