– I will confess, Your Grace.
– That will please God. Proceed.
– I confess… as a girl I loved a man who would not marry me for want of a dowry.
I confess I had a mother who taught me a different way of life. One I resisted at first but learned to embrace.
I confess I became a courtesan.
Traded yearning for power, welcomed many rather than be owned by one.
– She does not speak to the charge.
– I confess I embraced a whore’s freedom over a wife’s obedience.
– This is not repentance.
– What am I to do? I must confess my evil. These are my sins.
I confess I find more ecstasy in passion than in prayer.
I confess… I confess I pray still… to feel the touch of my lover’s lips… his hands upon me… his arms enfolding me. Such surrender has been mine.
I confess I hunger still to be filled and inflamed. To melt into the dream of us… beyond this troubled place… to where we are not even ourselves. To know that always… always this is mine.
If this had not been mine, if I had lived another way… a child to a husband’s whim… my soul hardened from lack of touch and lack of love…
I confess such endless days and nights… would be punishment greater than any you could mete out.
– Ever give yourself to a man who couldn’t pay?
– I gave my heart where riches were no use.
– I never feigned love.
– So why’d they pay?
– For the dream of love… as it cannot exist in this world that you’ve created. For the hope there might exist on earth some corner of this paradise…