The Search
“Before the fire, there was the scent. The ache begins here.”
A hymn of longing.
A confession in three acts.
The Search. The Hunt. The Journey.
These are the saints I named in candlelight.
The gospel is desire — and desire is all she wrote.
Three books. One canon. Desire written as scripture.
“Before the fire, there was the scent. The ache begins here.”
“Obsession. Power. Devotion. Blood. I knelt where the teeth sank in— and I called it holy.”
“Where the truth was finally spoken, and the light kept breaking through.”
This is the canon of Daddyland.
A trilogy of ache, obsession, and revelation.
Bound together at last — not hidden, not whispered,
but lifted in stained glass for all to see.
The saints are remembered.
The light keeps breaking through.
And the choir of moans rose from the balcony,
not shameful, not hidden,
but holy in their desire.