She'll have no truck with the customary interchange of pretenses that we all toss knowingly back and forth at each other, hiding our hands. She has never stopped looking around earnestly long enough to blur her eyes in recognition of common patterns, having decided instead that she is more comfortable with the simple, understandable consequences of what is real, of who she really is. This might, if you're more common a person than she, make you a bit uncomfortable, but it's best kept to yourself. Do not trouble the smooth sincerity of her brow with your complex storms of nuance. She is best enjoyed like black coffee and warm, soft, unbuttered bread. If you take her as she is and draw her in she will wrap her pure humanity around you and teach you, soft and smiling, the harmless error of your ways, the way to be real, the warm, moist kiss of who you can be.
A voice calls out in the shopping mall, a consumer prophet warning you of what will come. "Tied to that stake, when all impurities are burned away, you need no gift receipt. What little purchase is left to your bare, blackened feet is final. Where now is redemption? For what would you exchange this, your fair-bought fate?" His beard hangs fanatical against his robe, the tags still dangling like accusations from his cuffs, mocking your inability to pay the price. "Limited time only!" he declares, pointing a bony finger at the center of your pounding heart. "Limited time only!" Mall security eyes him timidly from the food court, afraid to approach him in the shame of their unarmed authority, radios in their hand but no one to call. Shoppers pretend not to hear him, but his eyes are locked to yours and you cannot turn away. Here, today, you will barter with him for your very soul.
Usually she just smiles at my stories, having little use for such things. It's not what we're about, these hobbies, pastimes, careers and talents. I kiss her on the neck and she threads her fingers through my hair. We wrap ourselves in our personal purpose and live all the ways we have learned to do so. We take care of our small duties in quiet and talking. We come home when the day is through and own this life that owns us back, holding hands and embracing and even scuffing up against one another, fitting more fully together when it's done. I have no idea if this is the way it's typically done, but I know it works. For us, it works.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
