She's scorned.
She's a mess.
Very used.
Now busted,
stands accused
by man and church.
And the church is right.
She's a blatant sinner.
We mustn't fool ourselves...
She knows it.
"Where are your accusers?"
He asks.
Relunctantly,
she looks up.
And she sees...
no look of disgust,
no trace of lust,
no pointing finger, it...
writing in the dust...
There He was...
Love of God...
Personified.
.
