β¦e is there, . . .
leaving alone, again and again and again, . . .
asking angels, where is my angel?
asking the clouds, where have you hidden her,
flying from country to country,
floating one day in a land far away, in Meso-America,
becoming now a Curandera, a healer,
dancing and finding her one day, a miracle, . . .
smiling and exploding with laughter,
knowing that . . .
my purpose has . . .
been fulfilled!
love found
love. . . . . . Thank you for reading this, although I found her, we had β¦