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About a Flower

I had thought no God could hold me the way your hands do. I feared the image I was created in But if you were carved from the same stone that made me, if the same hands that grafted my heart designed yours, then maybe he did once hold me sweetly, kiss my face, and bless me that I can be more than my anger. I feared the image I was created in, until I saw it created you.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things