Beauty? Beauty is not merely skin deep , beauty is fastened to a persons core traveling fast through blooded veins swirling endlessly underneath the surface ,exuding righteously yet unassuming . Is this beauty or is it something more? Do we call it by this vain name simply because we are unaware of its many layers naming this anonymous incandescent feature seems somewhat crude As by this name we must be visually aware of it ,capable of hearing it, have the ability to smell and taste it yet we cannot see, hear smell nor taste it . We do but only feel it . Kind, caring , loving , affectionate only a few words is this unamed thing tied and bound to words that are projected onto many other meanings this is undeniably unfair the thing I speak of deserves it's own definition something so vast yet so minute

Heaven Mine. A machine in which I travel To places only memories exist They will not fade But become solid form For they are present As am I Not in you’re world Their world Or my world But HIS a place to ignite a loss To rekindle a dream Was it a dream? It is not an imagined realism So clear to see for it was once believed to be reality No. It is a reality that was Wading through sands rich with time Staring into eyes once known Enchanted with those never met A brilliant gloss of euphoria Painted generously into every memorie Heaven?