Brick bashing in one’s
frugal atonement of sin, is
a lark taste of sugar, a sweet face
chastise a warm embrace.
After I hurt you, after the vengeance,
and no forgiveness spoken. But– (silence)
A graceful rictus beams after your kiss–
and you kiss me, arms in snail fondness,
and I fall- and fall in– the cavity of guile,
a chasm of micturated sorrow, you made.
Brick bashing one’s feeling, I sin
forgiveness, I did not attain.
Lessons were learned, pity roped
ego’s grope of another (one’s) like you.
Song birds plumage will now sing,
songs of feathers, feathers like ours, pluck.