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(I choose my own points of departure)
And we might seek to agree that the need for forgiveness is itself a quality of social lemmings, corralled into a way of thinking and living where something is wrong or right by virtue or vice of whomever spoke loudest, longest, most eloquently.
Let me corral you into my way of thinking, something other's made you resist though I know in the inscrutable meanderings of your heart you would awaken wondering, stressed by revelations that were not described, only felt, if the cycles of the moon aptly paid homage to your bearing in this world; if you do them. You wondered all the time and felt helplessly swept by a river towards a basin called paradise; and you wanted to go ashore and find your own, or another. And you found that that, too, was a lie.
Let me corral you: I took the economics to heart, played with numbers and time where they intersected and compelled feigned feeling when suppressing the real kind; I took to heart the economy of the heart as that paradoxical entity where the thing as a vehicle of expression inverts itself; I took as a sign that you stepped outside of us both, said "maybe" where on your lips there had always been a "no," whenever to the best of your numbers juggling, with the faith you put into them, the small house seemed threatened. .
If the price comes with a tag, I can concede to it. Far more costly to defy than accept. And still I wonder, as the truth purifies me, whether the lie was ever mine or another's.
Let me corral you into listening to a voice your own, mine: even when you thought it a lie, none could have said what you did in that way and not mean it.
