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I was never a blank canvas. My beginning was coloured by lifetimes of karmic pigments, shaped by hands I would not recognise, albeit, maybe, in that fleeting feeling of subliminal recognition, that knowledge that we have met before, walked the same paths, crossed the raging rubicon together, held each other’s hearts in a sacred embrace. Each of my precious lives have contained the essence of all my previous ill fated, glorious, unique existences. Knowing this to be true lends a certain urgency, as I approach another golden gateway, to repay the debts I owe, correct the wrongs, earn forgiveness from the souls I’ve plundered and the hearts I’ve abused. Too late, I fear... ⠀
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