Imagine angels playing an invigorating game of soccer on a heavenly cloud. Their wings damp from exertion and halos knocked askew from all the movement. The Cherubim sit on the golden bleachers cheering while the Strongholds coach their players on the field. The Seraphim referee the game while God keeps score.
When Life was just a child, she tugged on Death’s sleeve and asked, “Brother, why is the sky so dim?”
I have no idea what you do and who you are, but for now all these questions are unanswered. And I find that so exciting. You excite the fuck out of me and I don’t even know who you are. Damn, slaying the game already.
You’re the happy ending in a novel
You’re a midnight snack after sex
You’re the flip side of my pillow
My favorite good morning text
I am made up of 10,791,360 minutes of alternating good and bad decisions, lazy days, detours and misadventures, lies, love, 99¢ ramen runs and 1 Rihanna concert. I am 3 inches above 60 and 115lbs of solidified magic and madness.