Mama used to say, you have to know someone a thousand days before you can glimpse her soul.
There you go...let it all slide out. Unhappiness can't stick in a person's soul when it's slick with tears.
I let my head fall back, and I gazed into the Eternal Blue Sky. It was morning. Some of the sky was yellow, some the softest blue. One small cloud scuttled along. Strange how everything below can be such death and chaos and pain while above the sky is peace, sweet blue gentleness. I heard a shaman say once, the Ancestors want our souls to be like the blue sky.
Smell is the voice of the soul.
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