Read introduction

The story of a lost, sacred love.


Whitesburgby Sabne Raznik19 Apr 2014

What I remember most about
North Carolina
Are its trees, its many ponds, its
Bad roads (and worse drivers!), and

The carpeted corridors we often crossed paths in:

Your quick, long, steady stride that
Dignity and responsibility you are fit to carry;
My equally quick, but uneven, tripping steps that were
More than comfortable. Neither one stopping,
Almost imperceptibly hesitating:
Glances that communicated everything.

Sinner that I am:
I repent, I repent, I repent!
It's too late.

Tell me, love, as you told me
Without a single word.

Shepherd of my heart, I am as ever
Prostrated before you
In the corner of God's eye.
Promise me always
One fleeting glance -

Reassurance of redemption.