For so many reasons, I am sorry; that I cannot bring myself to apologise to reconcile to be wrong to be honest to be different to be forgiving to be bigger than my body gives me credit for to be pious to be honest to be audacious.
For so many reasons, I am thankful; for her her his his his her her his her love.
So then we need to sit on the cold red hot marble, our hands, your right your left, my right my left, clasped so tight as if in sanctified prayer. I will split my lips. I have much to tell. The demons and monsters will be in green, blue, horned and viscious. I will be embarrassed. You will be you. And then I will decide that I would rather have lost the truth, than to have lost you. You will be you, you will nod, you will frown, you will forgive and understand and be upset though you'd never show it. You'd be confused, and I'd relish your state of disarray. Ignorance will be your new best friend.
I wish I were sorry. But for this moment in time, for so many reasons, I am disgusted.
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