ts eliot, wrote something near, or around, the lines of “I have measured my life out in coffee spoons,” and like most neat things neat people say, i wanted to latch onto it, and make believe i might have said it, or at least skim off the surface, the eyes he draws, and make them look my way, even if only for a second, i wanted eyes to look my way, just like i want yours now, but the truth is i refuse to make someone else’s beautiful my beautiful, because, whether or not they match intentions, even if only through my mind’s lense, i lessen, what i called beautiful in the first place, and i’m not ok with doing that, so for tonight, she will be beautiful, even if she's not mine; even if you never are, and i’ll sip coffee like i’m not thinking about what i look like through the window, because it’s only coffee, and will never direct my future, despite having convinced twitter followers it does.
grace is desirable, and the kingdom is coming, may we, may i, live, like what drives us tastes and appears more purely than what i order from a cafe lounge chair.
isaiah 56:1 - thus says the Lord, “preserve justice and do righteousness, for my salvation is about to come.”
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