Often, I wonder…how do you know? These are things you could only see from the sky. Like my complicity. The shortfalls in my soul.

Yours must be a merciful eye. More so than mine. At times, I am shamed by the disparity. Yet you forgive; or at least, understand and have patience.

If I have felt unworthy, I apologise. This is the drama of the sinner, the cycle of flaw and recognition, itself a form of excuse.

Therefore, I shall neither beg nor pray. Simply allow. As it is for me, the warp in your glass is how you see. We are together in this. Our fractured sight.