And if you had been smote?  What would you say as you met me?


I had reasonable suspicion to believe that my thoughts were no longer my own.  I shut my ego down as if staunching a flame so as not to be seen.  It did not seem to work, such an invasive entry point was left wide and gaping - when I turned back to look at him I realized something incredible.  Miraculous.


Solis was made out of the same gold as my eyes.  The color was so blissful to see; depthless, vast, and brilliant like the sun -- like my offshore accounts which kept my empire afloat.  The color of Solis alone was enough to hold my attention.  


What could I say? -- Gold attracted itself to me.  


I tried to think without thinking, know without knowing, see without seeing, but when all I could hear is the empty spaces between me and a slice of something .. something -- Oh!  What luxurious and quixotic thing could I compare Solis to and taste so much bitterness for at the same time?


Ah, the sun.  If only I could have that, then we would really have to talk business.  


The doubt in your mind is strong   ..    Well, yes. 


I do not know.


"Solis, darling, I do not doubt you.  I just -- well," a careful and well-placed pause dropped, script-like but well played,    " I dream of big things.  Want .. for many things. I am hungry and my appetite is large.  If you read my thoughts then you must know I am a greedy man, you see.  I doubt you would cater to such selfishness."  I do not know if anything I said was the truth or a dirty lie, all I know is that I was incredibly thirsty looking at him.  The crust on my lips felt like sandpaper, I could do for some water.  


Or could I be cheeky and ask for Solis for wine?


I relaxed my shoulders, eased my wings down and let them fan out for a proper rest.  My gesture was not without intention however casual it might have seemed.   I dared to brush feathers against his leg but snatched them back when I felt the tines of my reach meet pressure.   I do not know what I was expecting but my thoughts were nothing compared to the surprise on my face.  I tried to remember to breathe easy, if Solis wanted to vaporize me ..  well, I did not believe he would do such a thing.  The lack of fear I felt was terrifying, there were no words to describe that sort of feeling.


Just to check myself (my wits, my sanity, my eyesight), I glanced over to my left casually to where Solis should have been, but was not I hoped he was in the temple where I could usually see him, but did not.  I swallowed the groan, the sigh, the altogether grumble of unholy noise and cleared my throat.    Great Disappointment was the name of my face, so dreadfully long and ashy at the thought of meeting Jesus on a Sunday.  Peach blitzers and elevensies would have to wait for lord knows how long.  I hoped my invite wouldn't leave.  Maybe Solis would like to join us?  Was he a peach guy or was he more into cucumber mint?


I knew I should have stayed home,  and yet, I came.  As terrible as I was at prayer, I still came.


"Oh -- and,"  what was I was going to ask Solis for in the first place again? Ah, right. "-- I was going to ask you if you could .. move your Temple closer to home.  In the desert.  That is what I was thinking about before you showed up.  Of course, if you were to ah -- smite me,  I wouldn't be able to appreciate your temple.  Witch, which --"  damnit, damnit, damnit, " I do not understand  why you must share with the others on Veneror, so far away from us.  You should have your own shrine, here, with us."  


I did appreciate his temple, OH -- how I appreciated it.  The gold, it was so pure, so clear of blemish, so bright like liquid butter.  To bask like an Olympian at the steps  of Solis's effigy of sun-sculpted perfection would be a thing I would like to do.  On a hot August day, late in afternoon when everything is bronze and gold, sipping something crisp and clear that tickles my nose(Dom Perignon, no thank-you, I am expensive but I do not have money-blind taste).  I would be wearing nothing but my own art -- nail forged right there under his sparkling majesty's most glorious sun to show him what his Light creates.  


I let my secret go into the air like atomized perfume, it is what poems are made of -- nothing but smelly, flowery, rosy-red, true feelings.  I wanted that luxury of having the temple closer.  I did not feel ashamed of wanting it either. The gold around my neck seemed to glow as I filled myself with pride, my scales getting that much darker, deeper, and farther-black and away from the corporeal thing I unfortunately was.  I dared to grin more like a scoundrel at him this time instead of some girl scout.  I did not hope for praise, I hoped for understanding.  If God could move mountains, I felt I was within my Rite as one of their worms to ask God to do it for me.