Triangle Trees

Now you see. And now you don’t. Now you see. And now you don’t. Can you hear? Can you hear the shadows dancing in the fog? Are you lost? You can’t be. There is nothing to get lost from. Nothing exists. Only the non-existent exists. Jump over your shadow and let the fog wrap you in its moist veil. Can you hear the trees growing? They’re black like raven feathers, with magnificent triangle crowns. Look. Words slide in the crowns of triangle trees like slender, agile, beautiful snakes. Words can bite harder than adder. Words can be more poisonous than cyanide. Words can kill. And words can charm. It takes 26,785 days for a triangle tree to grow up. Then the Triangle appears in the centre of the crown. And the words glide over the Triangle and you can hear a silvery chime. Can you feel it? It’s tender like steel. Comforting like a defeat. Merry like a catastrophe. The Girl steps on the Black Table and picks the Triangle from the tree. “Charm me white,” says the Black Swan to the Girl. “I want to be like the rest. I want to belong. ”No!” said the Girl. “You’re perfect as you are.” And the Girl, the Black Table and the Black Swan are dancing the waltz of shadows. Spinning around and around. Time flies, standing still. Everyone knows the secret of charm and no one exists. Don’t be afraid to be afraid. Don’t be afraid to be wrong. Read the unreadable. Catch the uncatchable. Think the unthinkable. We are the shadows dancing in the black grass under the triangle trees, under the triangle shaped skies. Off you go now. Charm!