Milena, Tarot Card, The Star, A splendorous young woman, with long brown hair and brown eyes, plays by a lake. Her long, hazel hair cascades down her back as she gazes intently at the viewer before her. A bright and beautiful stars shine above her. “Behold! A nymph begot by Apollo’s kiss, her visage fair as Helen’s scornéd ghost. Clad in brocade, her corset laced with lies, she treads the boards as Time himself stands still. Her eyes—two stars plucked from the vaulted sky—do thaw the frost of kings and mend old wars. ‘What sorcery is this?’ cries Puck unseen. ‘A mortal maid, yet crowned with Venus’ spleen!’ Her laugh, a harpsichord’s forbidden tune, doth mock the grave and charm the reaper’s scythe. Beware, sweet fool: to love her is to court the tempest’s wrath… and drown in heaven’s storm.” “(…And there she was—no, there she is—perched between then and now, her powdered face a moon in the footlights’ glare. Twenty-six years (but what are years? A flicker in the corridor of mirrors). The dress, heavy with time, breathes its own memories: silk spun by widows, thread dyed with indigo and regret. Her eyes, though—ah, her eyes—are liquid, shifting from sapphire to smoke as they skim the crowd. Do they see me? thinks the banker. Does she know? frets the wife. But the Star hears only the hum of the past: a harpsichord’s ghost, the rustle of a lover’s final letter… She smiles. The curtain falls. The moment dissolves.)”
