The mind, a dormant stone

True Love Never Diez my lonely, torn, delouted heart criez spoken before the thoughts began your grace rings miserably. Shadowland of the spirits dream on, dream on. Say it like you mean it, "The Poet needs the pain". Curse your hand, son of a bitch.

I sit here, staring off into the air, into the clouds, the vast ethereal glow descending upon the land. I am searching so intently, through and in between, wanting to see his eyes. Then the fear hits. Will I see his eyes again? Will I be able to recognize them, or will I forget them completely? I don't want to forget. I want to know his face, stencil in each crevice by memory and recreate in pure exactness in full color, this vision. Heaven and hueful -- the rhythm of his sway, the dancing feet in the shadows, how he'd grab my shoulders or elbows to move me along for the flight. A gliding pair. Atonement...please don't let me forget. I want to see my love.

I'm beginning -- it will be a story of My Wild Love. There is no other name for it. Justinlove forever.

and loves me still. It's now my job to take my love for him and let him live on. I do believe that this is the last act of love I can offer to Justin...prove my love by exuding strength and really letting him fly. Where does this kind of strength come from? How far down is it hidden, underneath my belly, behind my transparent eyes, under a place far less reachable than my soul? How to conjure this. I tell you this, he is worth it. Justin Adler is worth the love that will stem from my pain. Some say there is a clock ticking...waiting for me to complete my time of grief and surrender myself to the physical world sans love...my love. SoulMate, Artist... I can fondle this theory, but where comes this magic to suddenly raise my head in the light and smile, enjoying a good moment, or holding a good memory -- close to heart? This new love has taken form and has begun pinching, but I won't bite at it. It's the last act of love, and he deserves more than I can possibly give, so I wi...