Benjamin Posted February 3, 2011 Share Posted February 3, 2011 (edited) I watched him assemble the picture. Glass, backing-card and passe-partout sandwiched an English country garden. The verse was from Dorothy Gurney though I never felt further from God and "The kiss of the sun for pardon." It hung over my bed for years,and I recall how his voice made me quake. Piety, mixed with savagery. How he frightened me, stroking my head like some dark phrenologist at work, infusing morals with punishment. Massaging vanity with hope, his fingertips disturbing my conscience. Yes, it hung over my head for years till now, I found it in the attic and realise, that single act, was the closest he came to show me love. Edited February 4, 2011 by Benjamin Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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