His skin is painted silver, eyelashes and eyebrows silver as well. He sparkles like snow in starlight as the moon he sits upon rotates, spinning on the end of an invisible stirng. It catches the light of the moon above and reflects it like a mirror at the walls of tents and the eyes of patrons, so their irises are round with moondust and their pupils black pebbles. His body reflected the craters of the moon in the corded muscles in his arms, the indents of his hipbones, the hollows of his cheeks. Strings of tiny glass drops draped from shoulder to toe, some larger than others and shaped like teardrops, some small and as light as bubbles. His eyes are two grey orbs, smouldering like woodsmoke. The sign on the silver dais below is black with looping silver script giving a name from a childrens' story.
Art by Florence & the Machine
Text by Lucie MacAulay
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