History of lives spent
for love speaks
pages in volumes - 

love in garbs 

of fear, passion, playing rough in romance
possession, drama and deals
games of power
rejoicing in gain
parting in pain....
I look in my mirror
to trace history 

that's mine
in the well of his soul
I peer thru'

his hooded eyes

heavy lids drooping to close
I pick up my pearl
polish and return,
to where in my heart
it belongs -
my love is my own

in here the temple

is pure.