 |
| I didn't see an exact graphic for the shirt, which was yellow, and had four loves. |
with a massive chest whose shirt said Love
Love Love Love, each word a different color
on a field of faded yellow. A lot of love there,
even if it wasn't crisp and fresh, the letters of
the words stretched to the max because of
all that woman underneath and I thought,
passing by, it was as good a metaphor for how
love works as any I might hear a little later
in the pastor's sermon. Love stretches to
accomodate another's faults or fit another
person in to one's already filled-up heart,
stretches to the max, and then when necessary,
stretches just a little more but doesn't break.
Just like the shirt that looked like it might pop
at any minute, instead it holds things in, together,
and in this instance, big things indeed. You'll
have to trust me on this. A lot of love.
(c) Ellen Gillette, 2014
No comments:
Post a Comment