Her lips parted
like a cloudy day.
Brightness shone
in the rose of her cheeks
as she smiled
blood blushed delight
at our parting.
Aloneness is not loneliness.
The soul desires
itself, unmasked
unfinished and undulating
in infinite becoming;
to see its own face
each moment
in that eternally lit room
at the center of spirit,
the intersection of all
belonging.
I took pictures
in my mind
and flipped through her pages
when I was alone.
She laughed, and it was sunlight.
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