Mirth Is Mail Of Anguish

"A wounded deer leaps highest,
I've heard the hunter tell;
'Tis but the ecstasy of death,
And then the brake is still.

The smitten rock that gushes,
The trampled steel that springs:
A cheek is always redder
Just where the hectic stings!

Mirth is mail of anguish,
In which its cautious arm
Lest anybody spy the blood
And, "you're hurt" exclaim."
-Emily Dickinson

Astrid Berges-Frisbey photographed by Ellen von Unwerth for Vogue Italia March 2012 via