After a spring evening, days of sacrament and singing birds are essential. Arms around waists, shoulders, legs, and necks. Skies look bluer, and grass greener. A little more sunlight can brighten any day, but a lack of dust makes everything a bit crisper.
We wear Sunday best for honoring, and feel our Sunday best for keeping. We can take the Sacrament and feel worthy. We can hold eachother as peers with great sustenance for one another. Support me on your shoulder, as I do for you: like a hand that draws itself. A relationship has no beginning and end, At least I am not the beginning, and I am not the end. We lean on eachother, and built ourselves up to do so.
Starlight greets an evening walk, would make the perfect wedding band; so alight in the dark. Graves with flags and carry any amount of conversation, and the entire time we wonder. Best to wonder and to be our best, keep to our honest intentions and realize that they are good enough. We cannot be what we are not, so we won't be. I bring myself to the table. I'm slightly candy coated, but that is just me.
Sleeping now.
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