All drawings untitled 2004
He fumbles at your Soul
As Players at the Keys
Before they drop full Music on-
He stuns you by degrees-
Prepares your brittle Nature
For the Ethereal Blow
By fainter Hammers- further heard-
Then nearer- Then so slow
Your Breath has time to straighten-
Your Brain- to bubble Cool-
Deals- One- imperial- Thunderbolt-
That scalps your naked Soul-
When Winds take Forests in their Paws-
The Universe- is still-
Emily Dickinson
