Sunday, September 5, 2010

confessio, spring 2006

Love, undistracted, would add up to:

not undressing You
not the inward smile turned into exemplary sneer
not letting loose one single, wild
Thought
of being the measure of all things
or of wallowing in thick self-loathing.
(but I have, and have offended)

not misnaming Them
not the ill-timed blurting of a verdict too soon reached
not baptizing with an ardent
Word
the kiss that leaves to count its silver,
and dangle in asphyxiating fault.
(but I have, and have offended)

not cutting Her off
not the heedless swipe of plastic, the guzzling of gas
not parading for notice the
Deed
which for Love should go untrumpeted...
but I have, and have offended
by what I have
Done
and left
(the devotion of dishwashing and rinsing the sink
the letter to the editor
the yellow post-it thanks for sharing this room
the silent praise for a gold-grey sunrise
the willing suspension of huff and hearing Him out
the question that sues for research)
Undone.

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