..And I hope you’ll forgive my cross-finger rebuke of this zombified resurrection, this craven, staggering halfling. It’s just that I still remember you as the nameless emotion that the torn-paper poets violate the stars and galaxies to find; it’s just that I still think of you as the back-alley stabbing, the warm-crimson forgiveness, the irresistible impossibility of love, personified.
I don’t really understand this one, but I like its starkness.
It’s helpful to have been there.. Thank you for reading, as always 😉
Forgiven…and such powerful imagery. That you are able to describe forgiveness with such passion, is testament to your ability to craft such beauty from so few words.
Thank you so much. Glad you liked this.