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agonia 
￭ I know what you're thinking, father 
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-02-28 | | We are confessing through art, It penetrates among us, through us with a wonderful force. We are kissing each other with newborn verses, images of darkness and light under the Sun, under the Moon. A morning way too strange caresses my body heated by thoughts, your voice on my mind... Our destinies approach the same path waiting for the dance we have never danced . Rose petals are sprinkled gently by your Guardian Angel. Mine is still standing in line at the flower shop. I wonder what sweet petals He will leave on my threshold a new scent of perfume created just for you... Copyright Adela-Adriana Moscu , January, 12, 2005, Lancaster, PA, USA
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