STAR IN MY POCKET She knew that she unable to disarm herself from this labyrinth of pain.

She no longer looked in her rear-view mirror,as she could sense the devastation that lay in her wake,the ground trembled as she walked ,towers tumbled as she passed,it was no wonder then,that she should wound all those who came into contact with her. She knew this bruise was different,all past hurts had long since faded. This bruise,burnt her memory,etched her soul like a tattoo,a mark for all time. Not everything heals ,love doesn't always leaves a scar. She tugged at her tangled consiousness and sought sweet words of comfort,her mouth formed hollow sounds,she was bereft of eloquent phrases,instead she drew images and painted landscapes so colourful even Monet would have wept. All night she prayed to her Gods,every day they would refrain "when we walked hand in hand ,could anyone have seen us ,not when love is invisible replied the shallow venus" Exhausted she fell into the deepest sleep. When she awoke,her room was littered with shards of light dancing around her room like silvery moonbeams. sleepily she walked across her bedroom floor,still half dreaming,she tripped and bang her shin on a chair,as she jumped in pain ,she noticed something shining beneath her feet. Gently she bent down to pick it up ,smiling now, and ever so carefully ,she placed the falling star in her pocket.

By Linglang