[ Thievery is an art form ]
You could say she was a proper kind
of thief,
one who snatched away the prettiest of moments —
private jokes enclosed by lovers
the bubble of laughter from beneath
closed doors
and gossamer lullabies that were
never meant
to be scattered into the outstretched hands
of a privateer.
She collected them with an almost
hungry fervor,
tucking them into her pockets
like they were leprechaun
coins and
spending them with
silver smiles.
For how can it be thieving when
they are only treasures
waiting to be
h u n t e d?
