A merciful exterior with a killing presence are what make her attractive. She serves suffering on a silver platter and always takes care to wipe the mouths of the messy eaters. After a common meal, the cake is cut and dealt. Everyone gets a piece of sweetness. When the night comes to a close she says goodnight to her guests and retires to her second story bedroom. In her absence, she lights a flame that divides the shadows through a three paned frame.  Some folks keep vigil through the night and they look like beggars waiting at her doorstep from afar.  In essence, they do beg but she feeds the patient strays and smiles gently at their waiting.  

The mind is a palace. A muslin white with glimmering crown molding. It stands outside of time but it is a space. The dreams are in color but the room itself is beautifully barren.  Gentle walls make for nice viewing when I center my projector and enjoy a nice film.  Tasteful shadows and light bounce off all edges to form a restful nest. Afterwards I return to the simple white and sleep in simple dark. 

The body is an eternal mechanism. It spins into oblivion and back out again like a butterfly in a net but there is no catcher. The net is supported by its own volition so like this the butterfly is free.