The Light Leans In Closer
The day is ending, and the armor you wore for twelve hours finally hits the floor. You are safe now.
But there is a flinch when a hand finds your waist—a reflex born from the terror that if they truly knew the secret, that touch would turn to recoil. You brace for the withdrawal that never comes.
The light does not recoil from what it knows. It saw the secret before you ever tried to hide it, and it stayed.
It did not pull away; it leaned in closer. The hand on your waist is not a threat waiting to become a weapon.
It is an anchor. The secret you fear is already known, and the touch remains.
You are not loved despite the truth; you are loved because the truth is finally out.
Drawing from
1 John, Luke
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