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In Violet Stone
"... for never was a story more sad to tell, than this of Xena, and her Gabrielle."
I dreamed I was a sculptor.
Laying aside chakram and sword,
neither hammer nor chisel did I need,
but with my hands fashioned my will.
And from the most beautiful stone I had ever seen,
my fingers revealed everything about you I could remember.
Caressing, solid rock melted away,
my hands creating every inch of you.
You were always there. My touch released you.
Your hair, your cheeks, smooth in violet stone,
your lips, I fashioned with my own.
And when you were again, I saw
my in-most self expressed more truly than I could ever know.
Your expression saying everything;
as it did when you fell,
that you loved me and died for me.
I want nothing more than to be with you now, Gabrielle.
I lay beside you all the night, beneath the shattered sky,
your cool hand in my own.
And when the dawn came I was alone.
Without you, nor even stone.
sexta; copyright 1999