| garlanded in mist and veil she rises from indifferent sleep and flies into the chords of night to find the place where she can shed the mist and veil that cannot bear to hold the heat inside her soul ... |
| her passion hears the whispers that are far more precious than the dormant space she leaves below, that even now sleeps on alone and unaware that she has gone. her nakedness is shocking, her oceanheart is diamond-cut with stars splashed through her blood and the whisper waves that carry her may well explode the tender arch of breath. |
| the ache that fills her flight is love's heartbeat, not a demon's missile to be disarmed or feared. this is no weeping, wounded Chiron grieving in a flood of failure and na�ve, misguided giving. |
| this is the shining pulse of soul, the place of her Beloved, where she will be complete when all the mist has melted to expose the magic truth of what she knew to start with ... |
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