One. The warm touch of your hand meets mine and they fit together as if they were carved for this moment. Two. We step a little closer as we close this gap between our hearts and our bodies react as one. Three. Our eyes lock and gaze at each other as we see through a new pair of eyes as if we are meeting for the first time. Four. Across the way we glide together, never splitting and in perfect unison. Touch, of your hand on my waist, strong and sturdy to catch me when I fall. Step, we step apart as you turn me around and dip me low only the catch and hold me after. Lock, our souls lock together as this never ending moment keeps us living the fantasy that only few experience. Glide, we glide along for years to come and move swiftly by with much experience only learned from each other. Touch, step, lock, glide. Over and over till we become dizzy of our own movements. Touch, step, lock, glide. Touch grows soft and almost invisible. Step moves too fast to keep up and we make too many mistakes to get the rhythm back. Lock loosens and shatters as it falls. Glide sharpens as you fall away and I stumble to regain my balance. Touch disappears. Steps trips and off beat. Lock no longer there but an empty hole in it's place. Glide isn't smooth for I fall to the floor with a unmistakable blow. One. I feel for your touch but not finding one. Two. I take a step towards where your warmth used to fill the air. Three. I look for your gaze to lock with mine but don't find anything to hold on to. Four. I try to move as we once did and glide in circles but the movement is incomplete for there is nothing to fill the void. All I can do it close my eyes, go through the steps, and count to four.

Hanging from my fingertips thousands of feet up I feel my arms growing weak. With the ground of air under my feet and the slippery rock sliding under my fingertips I cry out for help. One last begging plead for rescue. You see me there but don't hear me. You laugh thinking it's another game and that I will recover as I have done countless times before. But this time I'm not playing a game. I need you to reach out and grab me, pull me to safety, But you just turn and walk away. I scream your name hoping to see you run back to save your damsel in distress. You do nothing of the nature except keep walking the opposite direction of where I fall. I tumble down faster than light, feeling my body hit every rock, every splinter of hope shooting through my heart. The last thing I hear before my vision fails me and my mind goes blank is words spoken in your voice. Such a waste.

Two different bodies, much parallel by space,
Yet they’re seen as a similar soul, much too wise;
Frankly, only one thing connects their far-off lines:
The cross in the form of a woman who inclines.

Meeting them is no pure coincidence, she lauds,
For a change of heart brought their lone planes with applause;
But the baffler still ponders about these young gents,
Why would Fate make me the origin of what bends?

Much amazement can they to charm our muse’s chasm,
Brought out of an obscure triangle to spasm
And make her plight more difficult to make choices
So as to bring a cut-off with life’s dull voices.

Oh, but who am I to decide for one fine gent
If but my dress be the maiden of honor’s bent?
Now, give me a plausible reason to choose you,
It might be your last of me and be it adieu.

Please, discern of who shall be your beloved half,
Just between black and white, never the grayish bluff.
Will it be the wise fighter or the wise equal?
They may blind you with mirror looks, so choose lethal.

by Sara L Russell
(For the casualties of Manchester Kennels, 12/9/14, 21:05)

Old trusty Bob, sure-footed in the lead,
Truffles and Sandy bringing up the rear;
And all the others, with no faith or creed,
Yet representing all that's loved and dear.

They run along the path to Paradise
To where no faithful hound need ever die;
A playful eagerness lights up their eyes,
As clouds and gliding seraphim go by.

Garlands of stars and quasars light the way
The scent of incense lifts their spirits high
Nobody shouts commands to sit or stay;
Freedom is calling from beyond the sky.

Saint Peter tells each one "Rest easy, friend;
Your earthy suffering is at an end."

In our day and era it isnt about race anymore! More along the lines of Those who believe N a higher power or those who do not..or Cannot see the vision inwhich we all are barried beneath our own regrets & self Glory.Foolish pride detrimental to our future judgement...May God forgive those who question, not sure wat to believe lead by multiple sources & similar religions...

Revaluations send chills down my spine , every time I attempt to commit and read it all the way... Always make it barley through the first half then all hell breaks lose in my imagination, the fear cracks all hope I had 4 a brighter salvation, in reality we're beeing told word 4 word of final cleansing of our world & its corrupted Nations...