Monday Afternoon

Pens click as papers get lost in the shuffle

"Satan was a good guy"

"God is a weapon to keep structure"

"God is Mom to two children fighting"

Just to the left, she stares

Eye to eye for a second or two

"Love is more personal"

"Charity is a gift with an implied reward"

Her brown hair flowing from the artist's brush strokes

"Charity and Love don't go hand in hand"

"Protestants believed in faith from within"

"Catholics were about working towards salvation"

Not a word spoken between her and I

I returned the desk of which her supplies laid upon

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"

"... darling buds of May"

Leaving in the back of mind the Shakespearean sonnets of yesteryear

To my right is her glimpse

"A weapon as they alluded to, good job you guys"

"A police state with God, essentially"

Only laughter of last week as the recent memory

Caught up in her presence and the essence of knowledgeable joy

"A burning baby, how does that make you feel?"

"The fire is Love, so it's good and not good"

The clock ticks and we are dismissed

She speaks to another as I find a ledge to for a new adventure

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