I forgive you. That's the one line I hope you read. I forgive you.
I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you.
I'd say it twenty times if it would help, if it would cover the miles and be felt without you every having to read it.
...
I had this dream that this was all erased, this page and all the other ones, so I showed up to find out if it was true (it seemed so real, that dream) and there you were, apologizing.
All is forgiven. It always was. Even when I was angry, I was on my way to getting there, was almost ready to let it happen, sitting on the cusp of grace, waiting to drop through to the other side.
Forgiveness is like that, you see. One day you wake up, and there it is, sitting beside you, cool as a cucumber, soft as down against your cheek.
Maybe softer.
2007-10-08 - 1:04 a.m.
