Wednesday, 10 August 2011

Jekyll and Hyde

Flying under a cobalt blue roof, a single female Peacock describes an arc before delicately dropping onto the custard coloured petals of a buttercup, wings tightly shut so as not to allow the colours to run. The Peacock's dark underside acting as Hyde to the lighter fancy of the Jekyllian upperside.

How she satisfies her senses as she sits; assimilating the nearby sands, the metre high glaucous grasses swaying to the beat of gently lapping waves, the rolling dunes with surface grains aquiver, serenely inching away from the shore like syrup over sponge.

How she notices the impressively straight, human-carved paths that bisect the natural curves of the dune system, paths she uses reguarly as a compass to locate nectar sources.

And how she notices her own facade, electric blue tears slipping gleefully from enourmous, ebullient eyes on an overpainted face with whispers of a resemblance to Matisse's Asia if an eye is stretched.

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