this room, this continent

wearing nothing but your sins
and a litany of regrets around your neck,
a droning murmur of hearts fills the night –
a kiss breaks the silence
of skin to skin.

in the dense dark of this room,
shadows meet shadows:
touching flesh, stitching sins,
weaving a blanket of guilt.
trembling hand touches trembling heart
and whispers like wisps of smoke on your idling cigar
promises love –

there you are in the room,
but there you are in another continent.
the night hides lies in her soul.

the shadow meets the
other in the famished darkness,

wearing nothing but your sins
and a necklace of regrets.

a kiss breaks your un-chaste mouth;
your eyes are wide open, but you cannot see.

except a pressing darkness and
god’s, own, dark, eye.

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