| Stone Clear She lay upon the pages of my life, the typed characters clearly visible through her fragile petals. Tiny crystal lights flickered in irredescent colors like a diamond in sunlight as its prismatic qualities reflected beauty. I saw deep within her heart, the center of her being. I saw a reflection of myself in its center. Was it a false image trapped inside? Was I truly responsible for only myself or was it real and I was imprisoned in the clear castle of my dreams? Her texture cold but yet warm from her youth compared to the eons of time now a dormant past. An innocent goddess of youth, hard and un-malleable without the raging fire of passion and desire. But alas. She was only a glass rose, incapable of love. The masked Writer � 2004 T Lovett |