Wrapped up in silk and velvet, they weave their plots among fragrant flowers and dusty tapestries. The malachite light of their eyes captivates timid young men. Somewhere on the dusk engravings their smiles remain like a highlight of a dream. They can drink your breath until the morning and moor the sun at your shores.
And you will slow down when walking under their windows.
And you won’t how to live without them.
Among the dusty canopies, in the quivering glow of candles, the princesses of the two kingdoms languish. The night has crawled into every corner of a barely warm room. Mold eats the faded tapestries from the inside. Frost glimmers at the black window frame. That’s how winter arrives to the old castle. The princesses hold out a goblet to me. We won’t let you go in the cold, they say. ⠀
I move the chair to their feast as slowly as possible …
Created by Darina and me.