"I'm full of holes and sinking fast," she said as she told me she needed new faces and a fresh start. She thought what we had between us was irreparable, and by human standards she was right.

In my naiveté, I tried to patch and fill them with imperfect hands and carnal substance.

With temporal eyes, we couldn't see that the many "holes" she thought she had was just a single void, and I was trying to do the job of the Carpenter.