#471 Holding an Image

Once upon a time, a long time ago, a very poetic young man who knew me well, heart, mind, body and soul, who loved me deeply, told me something.

He said that I was proto-woman, the model on which all other women were made. That I was earth, moon, and fire. That in my eyes a man saw the best of himself, and in my arms he was reborn. That my touch was magic, that my wisdom grounded a man and gave him strength. That knowing that my love was deep and without reservation, a man could feel free.

Obie died in an automobile accident at thirty-one.

Now, when I feel rejected, when I begin to wonder if there's anything left for me of love, I remember him. He was the most sensitive person I've ever known. He's still a part of me, and I feel like I have to live up to his words. Sometimes I even believe them.

If I can do that, I can have Love. I can give Love.

Even if I don't have a man to hold.

~~Silk