deprofundis

"she" is beautiful. I don't suppose I saw her face; I don't tend to remember anyway. I can just feel it. She's a different size, a different shape, a different tone or contextual color from any there may have been before. She's unique.   Just like anyone and everything, but she's here with me. I see her hand and with it the uncommon sight: I see mine too. I was in the touch and she was in me, the earth if not the universe with her.   It's too pure, too brilliant, too true.   Yes, so much, in fact, that - could it be... no, not yet. Bam! I feel my heart.  It's thudding like my eyes.   Oh!  I have eyes!  Oh!  God... Why bother opening the