In the beginning, I thought he was one of the good ones and the way he loved me was sweet like cherry wine. Maybe it’s because he loved me differently—maybe even better—than the ones who came before him. With him, there was no malevolence, no ill intentions. But there was no grace, either. Now, with every passing day, my belief in him dissipates. Through all of my fury, I can see it for what it really was, how he only kept me close for the hell of it. Now, there is no redemption arc for him. There are no sins to confess, he is simply not as holy as I once believed. He is just a man. The wine was always water. ♱ This is one of my favorite poems from my book ‘Loving, Longing, And Other Liminal Spaces’ now available on Amazon and at @shopcatalog