it's hard to go through the heaviest bits and walk out still feelin like an attractive human being, but we do what we can to smile and flirt, catch each other's glances through half-broken smiles and quick wincing faces.
but most of us are still here and there's this girl down the way groovin on a boy further down the way. And we got to talkin and she told me that faith was always a sticking point between them. And not that we've all been through a shared blanket hell, she said she doesn't want his god to die, but her fingers are crossed that his god has shifted in personality enough to let her sweet and sensitive crush be disappointed, and maybe reevaluate what god means to him, and maybe readjust his heart to allow room to love more than the contradictory fuckwad that lives only in the tattered book sitting next to the boy's bed.
It's a fine time for fresh starts. The water has receded and there are enough signs of life to lose count. Strangely there are no doves carrying olive branches. They are pigeons and native birds mostly, but we wake up early and we hug freely. There are callouses on every finger.
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