it's in the way your smile is reserved for only the things you find stomach achingly funny
it's in the way you twitch your lips when you'd rather not decide
its in the way you are never a yes or a no, but a solid maybe
its in the way you read the words off of a paper more gracefully and confidently than when conversing
its in the way you push your glasses up the bridge of your nose as if trying to put less space between you and the world, but just enough for comfort
its in the way you smile like you know something the world does not and you carry that knowledge around on your slumped over shoulders
She is the messenger of God
and she is also the definition of sin.
She wears red underneath the black and her lips are still warm with yesterday's prayers.
And while he was touching her skin and they were both close the light broke and from her lips the dirtiest little sentence came out in a white puff of pure extacy;
"Oh God save us!"