It is a softness between us journal, soft and slow. We whisper to each other, fall into a deep trance together where only our souls dare to speak. Her black hair is wild, and when she wants to cut it I beg her not to. She laughs and everybody around turns, the kind of laughter that gives a man hope. I have hope now. For so long I thought I was mad or lost or confused, but I see God in her, a reflection so deep that she denies it, but I see it, she can’t ignore it much longer.///