They lead her, bound gagged and clad in white, toward the altar, and for the first time I think to myself: I can’t do this.
Christ, she’s just a kid, couldn’t be more than 14, and doesn‘t deserve any of this. And I doubt.
You sense my doubt, and cast your gaze, blazing with intensity, my way. You flash a smile of mystery, magic and wonder, and my heart leaps nearly into my throat.
You give me so much strength, I hope you understand that.
And ceremonial dagger comes down.
Every relationship, after all, requires sacrifice…
Saturday, May 29, 2010
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