aliens and angels

I spent a considerable amount of time cleaning the filth that built up on my feet.
For she would be with us a few days and we intended to take her somewhere special.

She claimed to be an alien in this life, yet
she played hostage to the moon.

'In one life,' she said assertively, 'I was a tree.'
In yet another life, she claimed that she was an indian who was deliberately killed by arrows.

She even proved it by showing us the physical scars that manifested.

I asked her if it was possible that I was jesus christ, and she said, 'No.'
I asked her if she thought 'the light' could be 'dark', and she responded with certain disbelief.

She was the scientist who would refute her own theory;
the creator who tries to abandon the creation.

She spoke of out of body experiences, of purple and white glowing auroras that could be seen whilst staring into the mirror for long periods of time.
She even spoke of the power to visualize something until it materialized.


A sign on the wall warned people of nudity in the exhibit,
provoking them to enter.

Black lights lit the room.
People glowing purple in the darkness were painted in colorful designs,
appealing florescent landscapes dancing throughout.
She ventured off and returned a few moments later with a red heart painted on her hand.

I asked to take a picture of it, and she responded by extending her hand out to me.

With her arm outstretched I took her hand in mine, and with the flash of the camera she dipped her head just slightly below the surface of the water.
Not bothering to look for the sunken treasure.





(Here is the picture of her heart)