Capacious as the sea,between eternity and time,your consciousness and me.

“Will I ever be liked for anything other than the wrong reasons?” she wrote in her diary; “I have no champions.”

I want my days filled and my nights saturated with the sound of you

I think I should have loved you presently,

And given in earnest words I flung in jest;

And lifted honest eyes for you to see,

And caught your hand against my cheek and breast;

And all my pretty follies flung aside

That won you to me, and beneath your gaze,

Naked of reticence and shorn of pride,

Spread like a chart my little wicked ways.

Let me spread you out among yellow garlands. Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south? Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed.

My life is like a broken bowl, A broken bowl that cannot hold One drop of water for my soul Or cordial in the searching cold; Cast in the fire the perish'd thing; Melt and remould it, till it be A royal cup for Him, my King: O Jesus, drink of me.

OH HEY, FOR BEST VIEWING, YOU'LL NEED TO TURN YOUR PHONE