beauty is a word, it means many things. it is sunrise each day and images in the unconscious, in dreams as we sleep. last night it was a saddle, on the table of a yard sale. i was escaping from a very long and complicated dream, i jumped up into the saddle and rode along the edge of the table, as if along a cliff, horseless, happy and alone.
(check out other scribbles at: http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/) (saddle by consuela: http://www.consuelastyle.com/)