behind ivy covered walls, heat waves dance upon the horizon calling the mystical shadows to appear
a face peers through the ebony curtain that is the night at noon
one moment a cool reflection of the oasis, the next sand djinn dance on the heated hem of the scorched
the sparkling edge of the double edged sword, liquid in its transparency yet as hard as the sound of deafness falling upon the ear of the screaming silence
touch then wrap your weighty chains about her loins encircling them and shackling her to your shadow
"shackled"
`t. imaan tretchicovmanicova
3jun07
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