“The souls of the dead see my light. They believe it is their opportunity to reenter our world. It happens every time I enter a cemetery.”
“You can feel them?”
“They pass through me like light through a prism.”
Spirits swirled inside Amani in a whirlpool of ancient scents, tastes, joys, and tears. The haunting pain of unfulfilled dreams from their previous lives pinched his heart.
Angelo came to a sudden realization. “This is the closest an immortal can come to feeling death.”
Amani inhaled deeply, longing to breathe in their hopes of a new life, the passions of lovers past, the cold inevitability of death.
“How do you feel having souls of the dead inside of you?”
Cursed to live forever, Amani befriends Angelo, a cranky Vietnam veteran who searches for his long lost love. Sharing the story of his 5,000 year journey searching for his perpetually reincarnating twin flame, Amani the immortal, learns the true meaning of life from his dying friend.
This manuscript, my notes. and outline, have been registered and are protected by the U.S. Copyright Office (within the Library of Congress).
I would like to dedicate this to my muse, if I had one, but I don’t. So, I won’t. (Wink Wink)
bubbles of love
Soaking in an effervescent tub of your warm poetry tiny inspirations burst all around me Sparkling suds of passion cleanse my soul of the unsightly stains of dirty lovers and tainted memories For you are the nymphet of my passions a sensual siren of sonnets The warm bath that never goes cold Now I find myself submerged in your verses blissfully drowning in the fountain of your never ending bubbles of love
Forever drying off
the guitar bridge
that never leads
me back to you
I find myself
playing wet strings
that serve as cruel reminders
of the faded connections
between me and you
Now that you are gone
my heart always beats off key
while the tears never stop
on this damp instrument
And since you no longer care
I write the saddest lyrics
for I’ll always love you in my songs
as my guitar quietly weeps for you
Earlier today, I woke up searching for a good morning message from my Baby. When I found none, I wrote her a few separate messages. Hours passed with no reply. This little thing was born during those moments of worry.