Wheedling Naught To Make Amends.

The memory of You dallied about before it was yanked from my amygdala.

Burying my nose (and eyes and heart and soul and...you get my drift) into God's word, my gaze was affixed on the familiar scrawls once more -

'I am sending him - who is my very heart - back to you. Perhaps the reason he was separated from you for a little while was that you might have him back for good.'
~ Philemon 1:12,15

It was the umpteenth time that this context had manifested itself amidst thoughts of that which had gone by.

Oscillating between bewilderment and nonchalance, I soon shelved this aside in its entirety.