white light of an angel, sensual and
sweet, illuminates the moving kaleidoscope circling angel's
witness of chaos fall from a child's
cheek to hand in a place as
mundane as soup on a cool fall
day. as all good mothers do, the
angel answers the wide-eyed child's difficult
question with the honesty of the learned:
"Love is the crossing of souls. It
is not emotional, physical, intellectual, but a
meeting between three. It remains, or passes
on, as souls do. There is no
shame in honest love, shame not the
honest love." kaleidoscope blurs, as white light
almost blinding, dries the chaos on deepset
grey's out stretched pink finger printed tips.
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