Last Updated on March 7, 2011 by Christine Kaaloa
(Mumbai, India)
Dear Love,
Where should I begin? You show many faces. I don’t which is yours.
I open you up. Darkness, fog, then above the harangue of noise… a bit of illumination. Do I see?
Perhaps ugliness is your real face, your real beauty. It’s what gives life. It shakes loose the dream and makes you real for me.
Awakening,
.