I gather with friends from a distant past. They begin to peel out of their cocoons and reveal the vibrant beauty that they never knew they had. All hostility fades to gray as we sort out our differences. I count the heads that rise from the crowd-- My shame and my burdens. Calling them forward to reward them with a farewell kiss, i grant myself this one last pleasure. He shakes his head as a wordless reply, and i whisper, "I swear to you, boy, there is no other woman as beautiful as I." I mean those words with all my heart.
I wonder at times what they see in me; What they've lost and gained over the price of vanity.
Has my reflection been the only vice that broke the chance of an incredible journey? What a foolish way to live and think! Anais Nin once told me, "Each contact with a human being is so rare,so precious, one should preserve it--" Anais spoke nothing, but, truthfully. That being IS me. If any man shall scoff at my imperfections, I will belittle his audacity to approach Gods hand with such obtuse transparency. I am the Harpy who fell in love with her prey-- Disreputedly I stand, admiting such a thing.
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