David was my lily-of-the-valley.
Though such lilies were poisonous,
it was a sweet poison,
its effects undetectable until it was too late.

David loved beauty—whether created by Mother Nature,
or by those who used what She provided them—
but it was David who made me what I was.

University was his church,
secular humanism his religion;
an espresso-drinking pacifist,
he loved me beyond reason—
his core value.

My stepfather, David,
had cleaved unto me as a daughter,
and would one day cleave unto me as a wife;
I was everything to him.

Though my bedroom was my sanctuary at night,
David, and whatever space he occupied,
was my sanctuary during the day.