Slim shoulders kept safe by a soft, light brown jacket.
A sweet face content in a pale ale and BLT.
Safe. I feel safe watching her.
I said “Hello.”, touching her soft jacket.
It felt warm like Eden.
Angel in a swank sports bar, as hell follows a lost faith’s pale horse.
She hugs me, and I believe the stars will remember us.
A hit of hope in her kindness, and her light, as I lose track of God and man.
And then home, to call them up for war.