
Love is love; hate is not love.
Offended are those who hate.
No one is perfect—
None—we’re all contradictory.
It is not sin to be born different.
Errancy is inerrancy’s evangelistic end.
POET’S NOTE:
An acrostic Scorched Sunday poem. Part of my Scorched Strays collection. This poem reflects on the irony of Christian movements embracing a person’s spiritual gifts while condemning the difference embodied by the person who carried them.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.




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