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Rated: E · Other · Other · #1135673
He was my Savior
She watched him with the intensity of dark brown eyes.
Stared, at his long, graceful limbs.
Felt longing, wanting.
Bare bone exposed, only a skeletal frame of her wings remained.
But the empty words were now beginning to find meaning.
A cascade of emotion rushed in and out of focus.
They stood together closely.
Subtly, their extremities touching.
With things being spoken all around them.
After being emptied, they stood together, not so closely.
But she stepped nearer, hoping, waiting.
To find her long promised Savior.
He reached out to hold her.
She reached to be saved.
They embraced.
The sin faded.
The pain then became distant.
He held her tightly, close to the heat of his body.
As if afraid that if he let go she would slowly unravel and come apart.
He gift was feathers.
So she could rebuild her wings.
Mend them, and maybe one day they would work again.
She loved and watched her Savior with the intensity of dark brown eyes.
© Copyright 2006 Carmen Allende (somberprophet at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1135673-His-Gift-Her-Savior