You are a stained glass that stands before my eyes, causing the vision of my world to become imperfect. For my colors are now distorted, and what was probably white is now tinged a funny red. But something has changed. In that new color that I see, as tainted as it is from what it originally was, I see beauty in a world rendered imperfect by your presence. My values change. Expectations are no longer the same as reality. My once adamant idea of what should make up desire and future has shifted. But maybe that is not so much a bad thing. For as imperfect as the colors that hit my retina have become, my world has been made more beautiful.
are a stained glass, leaving in my life marks that may never be undone.
Marks that, if undone, would make me less of who I’ve become today.