This altar requires an offering but I can’t burn for you…

Our waves stole the show but the wind subsided.

Pieces of glass cut into the vastness of the shore until we were washed.

Now they exist deep beyond, they’ve been given back to the sea, but our offering has been rejected.

Our false accord rebuked.

Forced to abandon the threshold that was forged and drift towards the ones we belong to.

And although my soil is combined with your flood, I still don’t know if this is holy ground.

But should it require blood for us to sanctify this land, I’ve killed off every depravity that still remained

plucked the roots and pierced their hearts.

And should it demand grace to purify our kingdom, I’ve kissed every sin that was birthed out of dereliction

dropped every burden and let go of every scar.

What sacrifice will you bring to this altar, my Adam?

Tell me about the wilderness you’ve had to prevail, the range of view it has granted you.

I crave knowledge about what life you’ve come to find can breathe far beyond your depths and that which drains you in order to survive.

Recall to me the stories of how you wailed over the humanity of such evil and reasoned for it to stay.

Bemoan what’s been banished from your Eden, which offerings you have brought to lay before our king.

And should his ocean wash it away and drown you out, I will question why you’ve neglected the gift of so much time.

Is your rebirth only to be reached through such ablutions? Such faintheartedness…

Or will a merciful flame dance on top of all seven seas, receiving yours and my journey, blessing the benediction of rebirth.

But if all has remained and you’ve only acquired blood with no benevolence, nothing will be gained from such the offering, unless the sacrifice be my body.

Less you cut me open and lay me in the tide as the atonement for all your weariness and pain, casting me back into the deep to brave it alone.

So my love, before I approach this altar, look me in my eyes and face my longing soul,

Is it I who will burn or will we finally be born again, reunited with one another, void of any fear of what corrected us before?

Because I can’t burn for you, I didn’t shatter alone.

Miss Parisia B.

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