Ocean waves,
Smiles that dress up dead eyes,
Oak trees in their death knell at autumn's core,
Bellyaching laughter born of yearning and desire:
Here are only a few of her ten-thousand faces. Grief is a beauty, dressed in steel and lace, oleander bedecking her hair. Her cheeks are full, her arms are strong and supple, her legs corded but soft; she is a master of disguise. Grief wears many faces, for she is the many faced god. We westerners get Grief all wrong.
