Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard.
The little girl skipped by under the wrinkled oak leaves and held fast to a replica of herself.
She is so naked and singular. She is the sum of yourself and your dream. Climb her like a monument, step after step. She is solid.
Sometimes the soul takes pictures of things it has wished for, but never seen.
One can't build little white picket fences to keep nightmares out.
The man inside of woman ties a knot so that they will never again be separate.