bursts of orange

Cross legged, shoes on the ground beside her she stares intently at the sky, "with me friend it's always the same" she breezily explains, "Trouble sleeping only brings dimensions to my lucidity His breath on my back heats my insides How do I tell him I need room? That I am the irony bespoke in char coloured flowers I hope and I ache then shun serendipity I wanted a him before he came Now I want instead both sides of my bed the whole of me and the silence of REM... How do I tell All the hims ?" **Conversations outside and other things**  The Above Average Yearning Heart

He said casually over his chocolate cake "Do you see this glass? Glory is resplendent beauty or magnificence, a distinguished ornament or an object of pride. An object attains glory,  if it serves the purposes intended by its creator anything contrary robs it of this glory In our eyes The cracks in this glass make it inglorious... Because we are aware they were unintended In your eyes The cracks in you make you inglorious... Because you assume they were unintended Struggle as you might you are glorious So leave well enough alone..."   **Conversations over food and other things**  The Agnostic Theologian