Sunday, May 11, 2014


I haven't confessed
except to the priest
who hears much of the same
I must suppose...
The air thick with
words are heavy
in the air
Farther forgive me...
but can I forgive... myself?
I have reproached myself
for what I have
made of my life
sticky business... living
but much more... loving
let me wash
your feet with my hair
once it grows long enough
like the length of my life
end to end...