He Was Golden And Beautiful As A

It's A Wonder That Any Mother Ever Called A Daughter Dinah Again. But Some Did. Maybe You Guessed That There Was More To Me Than The Voiceless Cipher In The Text. Maybe You Heard It In The Music Of My Name: The First Vowel High And Clear, As When A Mother Calls To Her Child At Dusk; The Second Sound Soft, For Whispering Secrets On Pillows. Dee-nah.

I Would Have Stayed Forever Within The Garden Of Re-mose's Childhood, But Time Is A Mother's Enemy.

If You Want To Understand Any Woman, You Must First Ask About Her Mother And Then Listen Carefully.

I Moved My Arms Through The Water, Feeling Them Float On The Surface, Watching The Waves And Wake That Followed My Gesture. Here Was Magic, I Thought. Here Was Something Holy.

Wherever You Walk, I Go With You. Selah.