‘Flesh is that part of your tongue that wiggles,’ Paul flicks his tongue. I watch the spit fly in the air until it lands in the grass. These two magnificent dogs, lions almost, run up and lick the saliva. ‘Flesh of course is a simple substance. It is almost like glass.’
‘But your body is different.’ I watch Paul bend and pet the dogs as I notice his smile looking like the dog with a bone in its mouth. ‘Your body will be with you forever. It is your gravity of gladness.’
‘It is the weight of glory.’ Paul bends his fingers behind the dogs ear to scratch.
‘That is why Jesus kept his.’