ducking duties
i’ve wronged myself and many
it’s a great debt
but what is wrong is the guilt
not the rent of it
not even my sentiment
of it
here i lay, words and hands disposed
look at me – the penitent, eternally paying
sold cheap, as i serve my soul
curved, exposed
eu sou
my sole consciousness
to go on with short hopes
and long desires
at each dusk, each dawn
each touch
yet cringing
because of a guilt
that is not mine
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