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
guilt
-
Panacea
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