Come back here. We haven't forgotten you yet. Keep up the love, lessen the contact. Leave me alone for now; I'm in deep distraction. Leave it to God to sing your praise.
I've lost my words.
Hold your breath in prayer. True blue - cerulean - like Greek skies holding silver clouds, one day you will reach up there and, on that day, you will find your arms are short and, anyway, you recited the wrong prayers.
The Benedictine was being a dick just before the Philistine refilled my wine. We drank too much, he and I. But for the Benedictine, he's mortally sober. It's sad, really.
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