An ice cube
Sinks in the
Revolutionary red
Of seasoned wine
And comes back
For a moment
To remind me
Of all what I said
During the past week
Then it sinks again
Helping me to forget
My sins and desires.
On Saturdays
I confess to nothingness.
The priest asks me,
“Repeat?”
I go down on my knees
And say “Repeat.”
1 comment:
la you are poetic too!
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