

Conversation with God IYou got mad at me that day I got high on communion wine and tied your rosary around my hips and told you I could talk to God. I could read the lines on his cheeks right through these calloused palms and I loved how his voice rose up tempered and clear like spring, not thin and waspy like you promised. He called me by name and while his coat was too long for me to see his feet, I knew he did not wear shoes and anger was not his road.Conversation with God I
He took my hand to walk and told me there was no shame in falling with grace &nb
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"To really ask is to open the door to the whirlwind. The answer may annihilate the question and the questioner." - Lestat
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