The fortune teller of the soul
Love travels with a crystal ball.
Inside one will see not past, present or future,
but a pair of hands extended from arms
embellished with fingers
traced with the paths of another.
Study the hands she says.
Love travels with neither an arrow nor prophecy
Letting us wander in search of the future many desperately need.
It is the journey of enlightenment
the scent of emerald currencies
the ability to concentrate eyes.
Love travels with the knowledge of Eve’s fall
the eyes that search for what they cannot find.
It is the faulty that view the mirror of love
it is the green and scarlet eyes.
For love journeys with the image of hands
hands that are not one’s own
hands that belong only to the second soul and heart.
For it is not the path which love had created for us to see
but the fingers which are meant to entwine with ours.
The palms that are meant to pulse against our secrets and absorb them.
The veins that leak immortality and the definite.
Love travels with a crystal ball
the fortune teller of the soul.
remember the hands love says.
I will you say,