Something in you is different than something in me and suddenly
we are two trains…
one is traveling at the rate of 74 km per hour and while trying to convert that to miles to figure the approximate point in time they will reach the intersection,
the other is practically jumping its tracks because
graffiti is art too
and two lovebirds are eloping in one of her cars.
For heaven’s sake, pop the cork and sit on that chair.
Not the brown one, but the big fluffy one that I thought could be off limits the first few times. Like maybe one of those sitcom dads would appear at the top of the stairs wagging his finger to the amusement of the studio audience.
It didn’t happen.
I will curl up on the ottoman and have the audacity to paw at your knees every so often in a sort of mixed up, shaken
hopeful expectation. Not today?
ok. Maybe tomorrow.
But for tonight that knee-high-to-a-grasshopper-red-headed-kid
Is God real?
And God is leaning in dizzyingly close.
to hear the answer
He can rejoice too…
Like that time I got excited about the oreos, mulitplied by