unless you can part my ribs like the sea
and make stone beat, then there’s no hope for me
unless the east never meets the west
unless you set my sin between your shoulderblades
part my ribs like the sea and change me
’cause stone doesn’t beat
and rock hearts don’t pump anything
but I’ve grown not to mind because at least
stone doesn’t sling like blood
or spill like guts across the floor
where the bloodsuckers want more and more and more
I’m not sure why I can’t get this song out of my head. Well, it’s good. That’s probably why.
Incomplete is a leech.
Maybe I’m just trying to skirt around a blog post about last night at prayer. Yeah, that’s probably it.
I hate it when Lucia makes me do stuff I don’t want to do. She may be small, but she can be mean. 😦 She made me get up in front of people in Costa Rica and spill my guts and she made me do it last night. And she had no idea what I had to say either time. I should be mad at the Holy Spirit.
Ok. I have work to do. So I’ll use that as an excuse to end this.
Thank you for still loving me.