The Intimate Dance

Just three words is all I got, said too much or not enough or too casually or, even more embarrassing, too sincerely. I was in a dream, on a crowded street somewhere, and the sky was red and opened up and revealed to me the secrets about evolving my destiny and I woke up with a headache. How common of me not to rise above the exquisite pain of relinquishing yet another measure of control over my own heart. But isn't there something profoundly beautiful about watching me in a biblical struggle with my fear of being completely owned? Aren't my gaping wounds so sublime? And what about witnessing a person sacrifice the only thing they have ever really owned just for the chance to be a part of something extraordinary? How one person's damnation can be another's salvation? Can you find meaning in that? Can you find something to believe in? Can I? Tell me truly, how much have you gambled? I'll tell you truly, the stakes couldn't be higher for me.

I want your silent parts
I know that there is such a place
I have spent one year falling into grace

Thank you, my darling Criminal.