Id like to think i shall find her somewhere in big sky country, in a quaint small used book store. Sitting in an oversized high back chair, reading an older anne rice novel, menoch the devil perhaps. Her legs not long enough to reach the floor, gently swing to the rhythm of my heart beat. The setting western sun fading behind the rockies shines through the transit she sits under, highlighting her elegance even more. Id imagine a sun rise in heaven wouldnt be much more to look at. Finally someone to share my almond joy with.
Next trip
lucid views of a half mad monk wantabe 