In The Mists
Art by Norman E. Masters
Real love does not hurt but beauty does. It scorches the eyeballs of heaven and tears up unwary hearts with a smile. If you have wolf glands you will howl all night for beauty. Beauty cannot be contained it is always out of reach. Artists go mad trying to capture it while drowning in their own longing. Beauty is a stun gun in fortune's hands. One day on this path you will start to moan in your soul, for out of nowhere beauty will transpire through the world and you will just be this hollow need to be a vessel. Just an empty cup to hold it in but you leak and gush out beauty's vision through every pore in your dream skin. You are just a sieve for beauty and you cannot hold onto any of it. Even your spirit eyes flow away escaping into beauty's hands. Your tongue is out of its head with awe and you have never been this thirsty before for the beautiful water God distills into beauty's light. Beauty is a goddess that will flirt with you and then pierce you through with a thousand holes from arrows dipped first in the very passion you surrendered to her. Then she will dance a dance of infinite veils until you are just a drooling mess. This will happen to you and you will think you are going crazy but it's only love's work in you grinding you down into clear transparent glass for God to see Herself through.