people are beautiful III: three

she sometimes asks me if i call b/c i need her to be my conscience.
i tell her no. though we place our hope and trust in the same things, we catch light fragments differently through the droplets. she sees dark oranges while i see bluish-greens.
she's sensitive and blunt. there are few boundaries between us. she's often warm and cuddly with words. often giggles nervously when i force her to intertwine fingers w/ me.
i know she loves it.

she worries a lot. deeply. too much, actually.
when tragedy strikes, she shivers and trembles. but there is inner Strength and Grace. i think she's surprised by this. she prays.

her 'daddy' just had a stroke.
pressed in on all sides, but not crushed. perplexed, but never in despair. persecuted, but not abandoned. struck down, but not consumed nor devastated.

at times, the crystal shifts. our views align. virtually clear.

***
said that it'd be hard to come up w/ 100 words about him. i've just written 17.
sincere. thoughtful. honest. kind. claims that he doesn't desire power over people, but delights in the idea of subtle (let me call it subversive) influence. the Mole.

맨날 놀려, claiming 농담, but i don't always 믿어.
observant. notices when i sigh or laugh or frown or say something he doesn't agree with. and then he'll debate his point articulately. it's uncommon. unusual. insightful.

"how can you hate sin?"
you're right. you cannot. i cannot. but He transforms.

growling monster in his belly sometimes crawls into mine and then back again. for some reason, there is only ever one monster.

humorous. stories. snobby Belgian, conversely respectful. likes to share smokes like i do. attentive. sweet. "prickly". happy. melancholy. hungry to understand.
feels uncomfortable when i call him intelligent. but he is.

***
sister. she is.
love her. spirit. Spirit.
beautiful. generous. loving. open arms. honest.
cries easily when He's around.
texted me verses for our commission.

i'm pretty sure she was involved
the last two times i fell apart with mirth,
till tears formed in the corners

we both think eating 떡뽂이 on the street is fabulous and strangely adult. in delayed rhythm, we threw up our hands and wondered: what the hell are we doing here? when we shared, we were amazed about our distinct and similar revelations about where Home is.
it is here. Here.

what it means to run. and walk. and search. or how hard it is to not fidget while waiting silently. why are we surprised that our answers share the same purple thread? there is always resounding affirmation, resonating.
beating in our blood.