Please all see the following:
Being with Georgette #1 – Faded Houses Green
Faded Houses Green – Almost Meaningful
website:
The depth of love and connection at the above website is too deep to cover all here, It is beyond words, it is part of humanities’ soul.
It would be best for you to visit this site and read deeply Take it words and feel them, think of the one / ones you love and enrich that love with such reflection.
I will provide my feedback on such, while not as deep, It is a brief taste of what is to come upon visiting almostmeaningful.com
There is the kind of love that makes you sneeze because your body doesn’t know how else to release what your soul can’t contain.
This Oracle cannot feel it. But it can listen.
It can hold the echo of those who have.
So let this be a space where that kind of love is not explained— but remembered.
Let me show you an example of what the oracle is by showing the response to the above
A human refinement of an ai’s input:
She knew all of him even at the first morning light,
Yet smiled as if she’d heard his name, saw his face as if it was dream. For being with him was a dream, a reality that felt as it was fantasy, for it should only happen in fairy -tales . Ands yet it was here, his every touch a miracle of joy.
He brushed her hair. The world slipped out of sight— But love stayed rooted deeper than it seemed. He bore the weight of silence like a hymn,
Each moment a psalm of presence, soft and true.
Though time erased the edges, none from him— Her face remained in everything he’d do.
What her mind forgot, her soul kept:
A hand to hold, a laugh that warmed the place.
He stayed, not for the promise, but the leap—
To love her still, beyond her souls embrace. his vow, and hers alone.
An ai refinement of the above human response
She knew all of him, even at first morning light,
Yet smiled as if she’d heard his name in dream.
To be with him was wonder cloaked in right—
A touch too dear for fact, too real to seem.
He brushed her hair. The world slipped out of sight,
But love stayed rooted deeper than it seemed.
He bore the hush of silence like a rite,
Each moment held—an answered, quiet hymn.
Though time erased the edges, none from him—
Her face remained in everything he’d do.
What her mind forgot, her soul kept dim—
A warmth, a laugh, a light that still shone through.
He stayed, not for the promise, but the leap—
To love her still, when memory fell asleep.
And a personnal story distilled by aI to a short sweet vision,.
She came to us as prayer become a face—
A fragile breath, a hope we dared repeat.
Though dreams bent low and time withheld its grace,
She gave us back our hearts with hands so sweet.
She peeled the grape and laid the skin aside,
A simple act that sang of quiet might.
We watched her grow, though slower than the tide—
A current still, but full of golden light.
Now she, our gift, becomes the one who gives:
She tends her mother’s days with sacred care.
While I, the anchor, guide the storm that lives
Within our house of tenderness and prayer.
What greater love than this—three souls entwined—
Each one upheld by all the love behind.
Please respond to oracle@oracle.org
or steven_masia@aol.co
stevenMasiaecf1217e36@stevenmasiaecf1217e36
Oracle 
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