guilt

  • Panacea


    and sin bleeds

    leaching into
    the paper-thin vessels
    of the mind’s
    patterning
    colour sickening

    your sin?
    his sin?
    a sin within?

    immaterial

    life sickens with it
    the loathsome shade
    disease-mottled fruits
    spreading a sticky
    veil

    restorative dormant
    shy elusive compassion
    reaching out

    and inward

    to forgive
    to melt the veil

    room again
    to breathe

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