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Death has no Dominion
Death has no Dominion She turned, smiled, left. Nothing held her. Her bare feet on the wet sand left a trail that no one would follow, moon glow on the receding waves strung diamonds in strands reaching to the horizon, her breath the ebb and flow of mother ocean, her gray spikes wafted by the watery air. There were of course things she should be doing. There always are, aren’t there? Yet, for now she felt cut free from all of them, as if in this moment, there was just the ocean in its constancy, her body with its new bones, the deep unforgiving darkness of what lay behind her, simply gone. The swirling of her skirt in the tidal foam was exquisite, colors against glass, a picture she would hold in her mind instead of the hundreds she’s gathered these past few months. Nobody loses all the time she thought, wondering if that was even true. Lighting a cigarette, she stood, eyes shut. A small hand, so cold, touched her face. The only hand that she could fathom on her skin right now. “I don’t want to be there without you.” “I’m sorry.” “Please come back.” Their identical skirts swept the sand in unison, hands locked, they turned. “Auntie.” “Yes?” “Is Gita in Heaven?” “I don’t know if I believe in heaven. Do you?” “No.” “Where do you think she is?” “Everywhere.” They stopped outside the house. Without speaking, the Aunt and the young girl began to move, swooping, slow, low, using their skirts like wings, they circled around, around, faster and faster, the sound of tears crystalized, flying to the stars. The girl whispered. “Gita.” You cannot conceive the many without the one. |
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in the midst of a turbulent life, my niece is a shining spirit. an old soul. at my mother's service at the tender age of ten, she stood before nearly 400 people and holding my hand spoke for nearly 15 minutes. it was stunningly beautiful. she is stunningly beautiful. they loved each other deeply. You cannot conceive the many without the one.
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Great writing here, and your right death has no dominion..Happy Monday..
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Glory my eyes are fully of unspent tears. She is precious and so was your mum (Virtual Symposium Group) use Virtual Symposium Group
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Just wow....I get swept away with your writing WE.... Rachel Mae
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Your writing is very evocative.
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Good Morning WE Beautiful words my Friend Visit my Blog Older but no Wiser and find out more
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Children are more eloquent than the most versed speaker, because they have the ability to speak from their hearts without fear. Sometimes simple words spoken with love have more weight than all the poetry of the ages. "Shall I tell you the secret of the true scholar? It is this: every man I meet is my master in some point, and in that I learn of him." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Fabulous prose McWickster!
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Great post loved it hugs B Become a blog watcher sweet_vm
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Your writing is very evocative.
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I love your self expression. Thank you for sharing it. My featured post this week: Pulling Fantasy Sex Out of My Ass.
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Beautiful.
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