until

she has a tattoo of the sun on her left palm a moon on her right

she knows the kiss of time only in visions of the noon eclipses of passing

in delightful wonder , she is a seeker in truth and in wisdom

blind men come to her for sight of the second, they wait, for her third to open up in the purple haze of prophesy

mindful of the land minds laid out by the non believers, she steps lightly

no one ever hears her coming ,she sneaks up on you , and you never knew she was right in front of you

when she cries deep into the night , her sorrow is like a knife with a fire blade and it slashes at you

she is consuming, and yet giving in the same fashion of perfect persuasion

giving in to her own devises, she will plot her own war ; plans laid out in doodles and elaborated designs of circles and stars, circle and stars

she has always been a victim to the figments of her imagination

she laughs at her own reflection, because in self awareness there is no changing the beautiful mess she is

she holds her hands together in sleep so the moon can eclipse the sun

eternal night, ---- she welcomes

she is child like in her playfulness, women in her love and a menace to those who cross her

she fades into her shadows then you notice her and there is a light upon her face you cannot help to look at

before you know it , she disappears into her own realm of thinking, never to be seen

until----------------------------

carrie ann kawa 7/2009

this one i just let flow i did not stop the nonsence

until next time maria it ok to go a little crazy ive been there not bad , wonderwall i hope life has been productive and you are ok been looking tired and a little glum

ttfn carrie