sink

pine-swaddled river
my body rests in damp silt
and yours, down below
Dawn rises faster than the stones sink 
sunlight gleaming on your open eyes
but the pines’ shade still concealing your form
I let my words flow out and drift on the surface
of the river, where they sink to the silt
heavy from the weight of their sin

All encompassing, r e vol ting, insatiable sin
it tears apart the pines behind me; they sink
and dam the river with bark and silt
draining the water, revealing those eyes
of yours, frozen, the way they broke the surface
carefully harboring them, carelessly ruining your form

And how unlike you, this form
is this all some result of our sin?
did you ask to slip beneath the surface?
did you w an t to sink!
I am sorry, I say to your eyes
but this weight sticks to me, mud, muck, silt

And like stones, I can feel my feet slipping into silt
snapping bones and twisting my form
all the while, your cruel and glassy eyes
judging my weakness and calling it my sin
my bile rises as my body sinks
and the mud drags me below the surface

I can look up and see the surface
in my mouth, my lungs, I breathe the silt
and I fear that the river where I made you sink
is just as well your resting place as my form
of reparation, this payment for sin
committed under the gaze of none, the pines’ eyes

In the deepest dark, on blinded eyes
I spot a different surface
and waiting for me there, my sin
as I am spit out by the ceiling of wet silt,
I am a shadow self, a broken form,
I am a rope and stone, ready to sink

See the unbidden tear exhumed from my silt, ripped to my surface
To show for it, your broken form, still judging with those eyes
And me, with the pines and sun,
and stones waiting to sink,
ready to sin

2018

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