Monday, November 13, 2006

The healing healer reading medical tomes in catacombs before being tested pure by fire and guide in ancient mother country India:

Precious are memories of us together. I love you now – like family. like a permanency of my life. You won’t cast me away on days pained, I can’t be cruel to you. We both: imperfect to an imperfect world – with worries and trauma of body mind soul. To each other we are always 13 or 12, we are always angels, perfect. This my stability my anchor.

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