near to you
Last updated 2 years ago
“Do you think you’ll miss it?” I turn to look at her as she stares wistfully over the lake. “What?” She shrugs with one shoulder. “When dads gone we won’t come here anymore.” Oh. I never thought of it like that. I just thought dad would leave and...we’ll, I guess we won’t be able to come here anymore with him gone. I guess I never thought that far ahead. “I think I’ll miss it,” she says with acceptance. I think I’ll miss it here too but I’ll miss dad more. I’m not ready to let go.
The dove descending breaks the air, with flame of incandescent terror. Of which the tongues declare, the one discharge from sin and error. The only hope, or else despair lies in the choice of pyre or pyre. To be redeemed from fire by fire. Who then devised the torment? Love. Love is the unfamiliar name behind the hands that wove the intolerable shirt of flame, which human power cannot remove. We only live, only suspire, consumed by either fire or fire.