When I watch you meditate, you are so fully taken to the heart of the earth. You are a true little Buddha. With your golden hair and a twinkle in your bright but distant blue eye, you speak of the astral plane, the whole universe in the center of the earth, your twin flame. You drink a Coca Cola, but it takes you two days because you cherish every sip. You have become my warm home. My sweet soul friend. We smoke sage together and the light from the smoldering pipe glows greedily as it burns away. We drift. You work at a thrift shop. Carrying crystals in your pockets, you greet the customers with joy, but treat everyone fairly. It is no one's place to treat you like an inferior. Sister, don't ever cry. I will sing to you a sweet song. Deborah, seashell eyes. In the morning you make your coffee with just enough for one cup. That is your treat. Other treats: your mermaid oracle cards, a grape cigar, chakra incense, a cinnamon candy. You will never grow old. My sweet sweet sister, you are a cactus flower. At night, you look up at the dark purple clouds and see angels you've seen a thousand times before. Friend, you are infinite. A wild rose. A shell at sea. A pearl.