Weeping Is Terrible For The Complexion" Said

In Egypt, I Loved The Perfume Of The Lotus. A Flower Would Bloom In The Pool At Dawn, Filling The Entire Garden With A Blue Musk So Powerful It Seemed That Even The Fish And Ducks Would Swoon. By Night, The Flower Might Wither But The Perfume Lasted. Fainter And Fainter, But Never Quite Gone. Even Many Days Later, The Lotus Remained In The Garden. Months Would Pass And A Bee Would Alight Near The Spot Where The Lotus Had Blossomed, And Its Essence Was Released Again, Momentary But Undeniable.

Biblical Names Are Hot Again.

The Painful Things Seemed Like Knots On A Beautiful Necklace, Necessary For Keeping The Beads In Place.

They Sang The Words In Unison, Yet Somehow Created A Web Of Sounds With Their Voices. It Was Like Hearing A Piece Of Fabric Woven With All The Colors Of A Rainbow. I Did Not Know That Such Beauty Could Be Formed By The Human Mouth. I Had Never Heard Harmony Before.

I Moved My Arms Through The Water, Feeling Them Float On The Surface, Watching The Waves And Wake That Followed My Gesture. Here Was Magic, I Thought. Here Was Something Holy.