Starry, Cloudless Nights

An unsolicited commentary offered to Robert Bly

The old black dress
no longer fits. It's
too tight, outgrown.
Unsewn, intuition hints
through de-spooled,
rainbow threads
unwound on cold,
tiled flooring haphazardly,
unconcerned with any
mannequin's silent deception.
Pre-conception of objective
formulas severs creators'
minds from hearts.
Art's fathomed
in the breath,
in the spaces
between, where unconscious
intuition breathily whispers
on glimmering,
starry, cloudless nights.

This poem was published by The Cartier Street Review in their February 2009 issue.