Life is so huge and so small. Is this the beginning or the end? Are we awake or just dreaming fast in flight? I have a photograph etched in the marrow of my body and soul. I was flying so high. I was filled with the certainty of my youth skipping across the slipstream of life when she took me with her sight, her green eyes dancing in the late October night back in 78'. Two children were held tight in the preflight position of their life, questioning their human rights. Thinking back now, I remember how we ran together through our lives restless gates, and I remember how our bodies came together like roots to the earth. Some may say this was the result of God's grace and light, or perhaps it was a prelude to a charmed life. We were bound like the shore line to the sea, so close, yet so far. We stood at our precipice drawn together tight. We lived in a home spun cocoon, through so many moments of time we dwelled in life's womb. Inevitably though, the force of life took us from behind. Even though we willed with our entire might, reality had its way with us, diminishing our pledged rights, and we went crashing with all our human fright into the superimposed night.
What? You say you found this photograph and you have been using it for a cocktail napkin?
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