Retrospectively, I search diligently past beauty to see in an angel the folded wings that others could not see. Within femininity there are several mysteries that keep a woman’s sacred secrecy, like rare diamonds in the earth that men search for endlessly but will never find; through wondrous eyes, I see angels gliding high in that place from where the twilight shines. To not know and taste the essence of a woman, is to not know the ultimate beauty and wonder of creation — strands of hair blow against her face, and I know that she was beauteous from her inception. She is crowned with stars that touch the heavens; I dreamt of kissing her in white linen. I dreamt that we lost each other and then found each other again. I envisioned that she rescued me from that dark place where pain doesn’t end. With her wings folded under clothing they can’t see the profoundness of her true beauty, but I see; with wondrous eyes I see. With a celestial glow she smiles at me, and in her smile, there is loving eternity and divine destiny that whispers to me.

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