Behind the Curtain...

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It is a mysterious thing- things and people

behind closed curtains...

It is sexy, perhaps

or frightening

nonetheless

there is ecstasy either,

or grief.

People are separated by them,

Others brought to intimacy behind

their vanishing hands.

Secrets are kept secret by them, unharmed.

Countries divided by them...

the unassuming veil of a curtain.

But it is the child, with her bare feet and running

who slips behind the curtain, for neither deviancy

nor persuasion

who waits to be found,

who laughs as quiet as her innocence,

which shimmers lightly on faint chimes

and tethers in the wind, thin as silk.

poem by Lara, photos by Annieta and Miss Nelly via flikr