{she is like a cat in the dark
and then she is the darkness}

my church offers no absolutes.
she tells me, 'worship in the bedroom.'
the only heaven i'll be sent to
is when i'm alone with you—

(summertime by ella fitzgerald is purely self-indulgent because i can so imagine meg humming it to cas as they dance around a dirty old motel room after the end of the world.)

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