The cathedral was dark and cold.
I sat alone in a pew, the only soul around.
My head was bowed, my mind fascinated by my shoes.
The marble was worn.  Generations of the faithful had fill this place.
Outside, the clouds wiggled their way away from the sun and allowed its light to pour into the nave.
The light shone in from the stained glass windows surrounding me,
and the entire cathedral became illuminated in a majestic array of colors,
that only God, Himself, could make.
I felt a presence around me, one like I had never felt before in all my years on Earth.
All at once, the cathedral was dark and lit,
cold and warm,
empty and yet, so completely occupied.
It was then that I met God.  
And my soul rejoiced.

On paper, you are all wrong.
The list is long that describes your faults.
On paper, you are not right, at all.
The adjectives are many that paint you negatively.

But with one drag from your cigarette,
and a grin, cloaked by your black and grey whiskers,
I forget.

When my name flows out of your mouth,
even in the plainest of tones,
I forget.

The long list, the one that I always turn to,
and try to convince myself out of this,
vanishes.

I swim in a sweet, sublime pool of bliss.
I feel love for you, in the simplest of ways.
I love you.  Simply and purely.
List or not.

Fragments of you linger in my mind.
In my heart.  On my soul.
Diet Coke and the smell of cleaning supplies.
Bearded men and tie clips.
Cosmic Love.  The Good Days.  Emmanuel.
Watches on the right side.  Red shoes.
Fragments.  Pieces.  Parts.
Not the whole you.
I miss the whole you.
But all I have are the fragments you left with me.