You are salt upon the pages of holy words.
You are “experience.”
You are the defining storyline of my private autobiography.
You are, have been, the ink inside my pen.
I have treated you like deconstructed texts.
And I’m sorry.
You were also the subject of my prayers,
the repository of my sleepless nights,
the recipient of my trust.
We have gone to an unknown place.
Now for tears and a journey.
Now to travel the road and carry the fire.