:: Thursday, June 02, 2005 ::

“Heaven lies about us in our infancy...” (Wordsworth)



Her smile leaps from the center of my heart before I even realize it lives there. Her softness spills like quiet rain; I look at her and float. Her eyes are pools of heaven, mirrors of God’s happinesses.
I forget, and I forget, and I forget, while she blossoms into herself, until I hardly recognize my delight in human, angel form. I forget, and I forget, and I meet her for the first time every morning, glowing and new from the eternity I dream of. I ache with forgetfulness, the saddest of necessities, a mind too weak to hold deep heart secrets.
But I love her, and when I’m with her, I long for the capacity to be more with her, to understand joy like a whispering scent around us. She helps me forget my affinity for the garble of life and remember, if only through her smile, the dream in which we will meet each other one beautiful forever.

Labels: Broiled Brain

:: Bethany Bassett - 11:39 PM :: + ::