At Dawn Came Love (Part VII)

She accepts the hand of her escort and enters
the great staircase that ascends to their box at the
opera. Glittering like a single diamond, or strings
of pearls at hidden throat, she dangles at the ears
insured to the hilt. The poor are not allowed to see
her except by an importunity that lasts the
impoverished sight thief until death.

Transport her ladyship to this hour, this year of a
warmed globe and melting permafrost, and she
would likely go instantly insane. The skin alone
allowed to be shown would be her inextricable
and timeless moment of cataclysm. Automobiles
and no horses – a dagger through her unseen breast.
Transport a lady of today to cobbled streets and
invisibility and she would likely end it before
dawn touches soft lamp lit streets or the
shiny leather and well-worn surface of one
horse’s harness.

 

© allets 2020
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