Eyebrows that meet in the middle above the most beautiful kind eyes. A bum bag sitting front side up on a slightly too long blue shirt, with a slogan which passes me, out of focus. A man who treats cancer patients in Bangladesh. Something below the brow makes me shake to the point where i almost can’t look. A vibe, a power, a kindness that is like my idea of Jesus or Krishna. Flesh and blood that i can only describe as holy. My gaze in his, tears rolling and the power to make me crumble. Hand in hand a shake that rocks my body. A vibration from toe to crown. A glorious rhythm of love from where? The cosmos, from faith, from fate?