A shepherd’s love.

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You slipped from my hands like the blouse off my body. It happened so quickly, un-expectantly. Could it be that I shuddered too soon? To avoid, resist, or to compromise an existence not intended for compromise? The dry taste of escape embodied me fully as I departed from actuality. I left the temperature of your presence into the chaos of my presence. It is a challenge as I undress to impress and stand stripped for the sake of provision. My heart sobs wearily. My heart aches with sickness for a home in which I can call my own. I prostate myself in the hallway of your sanctuary, in the hopes of a direction, created for me. I weep for freedom from the oppressors hidden behind the paleness of my father’s eyes. To hear of a love that searches endlessly for an immoral canvas, such as I, stained with the lusts of perverted injustices and smothered with immeasurable exhaustions, to unlock and unchain, to release and to reveal the artistry of your divine decadence. You desire to emotionally save me with the grace of your shepherding love and in the timing of your infinite astuteness.

Image Credit: Angry Whistler by Giorgos Rorris

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