|Poem for a piece of Sherlock art by dauntdraws:
||[Sep. 17th, 2010|04:01 pm]
(she lives between pages)
I saw this piece yesterday, and I couldn't get it to stop knocking around in my thoughts. There are so many excellent artists starting to emerge in this fandom.
Artwork here: Just...Don't
Moon arched against stark clouds, round
as the Eye and just as wide. It's enough
with the Thames to your left and the wind
humming hollow lullabyes. Your throat
won't open for words. Can't. Your hands
fight for purchase, fiercely part the dark,
find startled warmth. Not what you expected,
but this is sheerest want. Strange belonging
in the low strains of his kiss. The fall
of his hair, the hitch of his breath.
The fact that you have done this.
, another really awesome artist who's kicking around Sherlock
fandom, is going to draw me something intentionally as a prompt, which hopefully will mean fic and not poetry (although who knows, I seem to be in the mood for verse a the moment). Between that and urchinmoppet
and...yeah, whoa. This fandom is spoiled for artistic talent.
Thank you. And yes, the boys, bless them. Great